


RESTART

by LynxOnSmoothies



Series: RESTART or REPLAY? [1]
Category: OFF (Game), OFF (Mortis Ghost), OFF by Mortis Ghost - Fandom, Off
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Character Death, Elsen have a bad time, F/M, Female Player (OFF), Gameplay Compliant, Graphic Descriptions of Torture, Graphic descriptions of violence, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Insanity, Largely Headcanon Character Portrayals, Learning the platform, Minor references to Scenario Failure, Mostly just headcanon of character stuff though, Obsession, Plot Reasons, Ratings per chapter, Some Tags not Listed, Some humor but OFF is pretty dark, Trauma, Unreliable Narrator, again warnings provided per chapter, lots of death, please heed them, third person
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:33:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 24
Words: 59,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23835427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LynxOnSmoothies/pseuds/LynxOnSmoothies
Summary: In which the Batter succeeds and remembers why. Unfortunately, that is where the story starts, not ends.
Relationships: Dedan/The Player, The Batter/The Player
Series: RESTART or REPLAY? [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1717540
Comments: 60
Kudos: 158





	1. zone END-1: RESTART

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter contains gameplay spoilers, mentions of death, light (very, like really just referenced) gore, and uncomfortable themes around possessiveness. As such, this chapter is a T. Read with discretion.
> 
> Italicized Sentence: The Batter thinking/Text from Visor  
> Italicized Word: Emphasis  
> Italics Underlined: Mental Breakdown  
> Bolded Words: Heavy emphasis  
> Bolded Words behind “::”: Game Text

It was done.

All he had to do now was pull the switch. He had to turn it all off, start the world over. That was his mission, the reason he had been guided through his task so efficiently. Sharp nails idly clicked together as he mused, nicking his palms.

Guided… Yes, his little puppeteer was quite adept at combat. At purification. Oblivious to his machinations, only doing what was needed to complete the assignment. Yes, his little puppeteer had been easily manipulated. Did that make him the puppeteer, and his Player the puppet? It was of no matter.

His task was complete. 

Tapping his foot against his fallen bat, he paused. Now, where was his precious _perfect_ little puppeteer? The Batter could not recall. He had not seen her since he had smashed _annihilated_ ** _gored_** the cat with his claws and bat. How could he have been so lax in her safety?

It was everything. Everything ever _ything everyever ything  _ **_ every _**_th _ **_ ing  _ **

Turning around, he could see her sitting _so **nicely**_ against the wall, clutching the cat’s limp corpse _what was left . _Striding over, he could see her shoulders shaking in _delicious _sobs. It brought pain to his chest. His pure little puppeteer, his infallible Player, was hurting. Had that cat, the Judge, hurt her during the battle? Lifting her, he searched her skin for injuries. There were none, but he still cradled her smaller form to his body. Little smudges of black stained her skin from the cuts on his palms.

A wracking sob against his chest. “Batter…” He pulled her tighter against him, willing his Player to speak. What had her so distraught? “Batter, are we doing what’s right? We’ve caused so much pain, done so much wrong. Is this worth it?” He locked his arms, like bands of steel, closing his eyes.

Yes, they were doing bad things, but for all the right _useful_ reasons. The world had stagnated, had become filled with fear and sin; it was his duty as the Batter to fix it. It always had been, he had been told this since he was created.

The smallest of frowns flit across his face. It was odd, but he could barely remember a time before his task. Faint wisps of memory, sounds **_flasHES _ **, but nothing solid. Odd, but it did not matter to him much. Life was nothing before his Player was assigned to help him with his task, to help him fix it all. His perfect puppeteer.

“Yes,” a deep breath, “it will all be worth it.” Standing up, he carried her over to the switch. He felt his skin begin to strain, tearing with wet rips. His limbs crack as he grew taller, arms lengthening, fingers growing into points. His face stretches to fit his changing face, teeth clicking as the points come in. A grin grew upon his muzzle, as black blood dripped down his teeth. He had nothing left to hide anymore, it was all over and done with. His four eyes glanced down at his puppeteer, slightly worried; she still cried, though it was softer now.

Resolve burned _ like her skin did against his own_ in his chest as he grasped the switch. Her work, her suffering, it was all for this moment. This was the culmination of all of their hard work, all of it soon to be worth it. He locked eyes with his Player, who looked up at him with teary eyes. There was no fear, no disgust. No, his Player was always so accepting of his actions, no matter how gruesome they were. No matter how many times he had eaten the flesh raw, is teeth and bat stained _such a beautiful_ red with blood. No matter how many times he had killed and killed and killed _and killed and killedandkilled andkilledandkilled_ and ate and ate and ate and ate _ ateateateateate  _, she did not judge his actions. She had only accepted, his perfect puppeteer.

Now, he had to leave her

Or she would be leaving him. Whichever turned out to be correct. His mission was done, she would have no reason to stay and him… well, after the switch was flipped, there would be nothing _all gone, so_ ** _qUIet_** from this world left. Including him. 

He did not want to leave her, and he wouldn’t let her leave him, but he had to finish his task. He had been assigned this quest and she was counting on him to finish it. To make it all stop, and so he would. For his Player.

**The switch is now OFF.**

**And the Batter remembered.**

He remembered it all, every single time they had gone through this same script. All the times the Player had cried over the corpse of the Judge, how many times she had pitied Valerie, every time he had killed the Queen. Oh, how he _remembered_.

He remembered the screams, hundreds and hundreds of the same screams from the same Elsen, over and over and over in the exact same way again and again. Him meeting her again and again and again, each time feeling awe and joy and _e_ ** _motions and oh… _ ** It was _fantastic._ Because the Batter knew, at that moment.

She never got to leave him, he never had to leave her. It just kept repeating over and over and over again. He never remembered until the quest was done, but that made it all the _ sweeter._ It was a reset of everything, back to the beginning of their story. Because that is what it was, _their story_. It had nothing to do with the rest of the world; the Elsen, Dedan, Enoch, Japhet, the Queen, Hugo, Valerie, Judge, Zacharie, the Spectres.

None of them mattered.

It was about him, meeting her. Over and over and over and over and over again. Him, doing his task, with her, over and over and over and over and over and over again. Her, leading him through everything, over and over and over and over and over and over again. It was _perfect_ , over and over and over and over and over and over again, every single time. She was there, every single time, never changing. Always accepting him, and his actions.

Of course, he could stop the cycle, let her go, let the world take its course after resetting. He never would. It would mean never seeing her again, her smiles, her tears, her purity. He could never let that all go, the one bright _ purebeautiful  _ thing in all of his existences. 

“Will you restart?” He spun, stained red eyes piercing the darkness to find the familiar voice. “Will you finally let us all go?” The Batter’s snout grew a terrible grin.

“Now, Zacharie, you know better than to ask.” He straightened, the Batter towering over Zacharie, whose empty eyes stared from his mask. He had known the Batter would answer as he always did, but he still had hope. Hope that one day, one gloriously beautiful day, he would stop the loop.

“Restart our story.”

* * *

**::Your name is (), correct?**

**::Welcome then, ().**

The Batter stood patiently as light bloomed around him. He was being transported to Zone 0 to meet his Player. This being who would lead and assist him to his goal was of the utmost importance. Without them, he would not be able to fully complete his mission. He had to keep them safe as they drew him through to the end, and only then would he be able to purify the world fully. 

**::This being is known as The Batter. You have been assigned to assist him.**

**::The Batter has a very important mission, be sure he accomplishes it.**

**::Zone 0 is his first destination. Good luck.**

**::For more information, find the one called "The Judge".**

The florid yellow ground under his feet was surprisingly firm, as he stood motionless, waiting. It was only a few moments before a burst of light and sound _had it been so quiet_ appeared at his side. Turning, he was surprised to see a small woman looking back at him with large eyes. His surprise was soon overtaken by his awe; he could see the purity pouring out of her skin, brushing against his soiled skin, making his hold on his disguise ripple faintly.

Something hot filled his chest. Joy. He did not understand. Was it because she was the embodiment of what he was to do, or was it that her arrival heralded the completion of his quest, when it finally ended? Neither rung true, but he knew; this little Player held the fate of this world in her tiny hands. He had to ensure her safety and health, for his mission, for this world…and oddly, for himself. 

But not really, because that did not make sense.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! This is my first time posting on AO3, so I hope you can be patient with me as I learn the platform. That said, this is actually an older story that I had originally posted on FF.net, back in 8/2014. A long time ago. Now here I am editing it and putting up on here, with no beta still. I will be editing the original story on FF.net as well, so if you see it there that is me. Same username, but feel free to reach out if you have doubts.
> 
> I also want to drive home that I do write about some darker topics. Please take the chapter warnings seriously, we get into fairly graphic torture, insanity, cannibalism (sort of), and similarly related themes. If you end up reading the related shorts about my headcanon's of the characters, I get into self-harm, murder, torture, genocide, etc. This goes dark, but it won't be all that way (don't be scared, I promise). There is levity, just when it gets dark I really go for it. The side stories (I'll most likely post them in their own story with notes on where they belong in here) are darker than the chapters here.
> 
> Hope you all stick around for the rest of this story. I update infrequently, so... *shrug*


	2. zone 0-2: REPLAY

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own OFF or the affiliated characters, nor am I associated with Mortis Ghost. I only own the vague Player character.  
> WARNING: Rated T for Obsession.

He watched her intently as she fidgeted under his gaze. He just couldn’t help himself. The purity radiating through her skin was mesmerizing.

“Umm…” Her quiet mumble commanded his attention, not that she didn’t already have it. “Could you,” she peered up at him, tilting her chin. “perhaps be…” She trailed off with a light sigh, turning to face ahead. “Ah!”

Batter whipped his head around, shoulders tense as he grasped his bat. What was it? Was it a threat? No matter, it would not reach his Player. No, never. To the Batter’s surprise—and slight dismay—there was no immediate threat visible. Only a small, white cat, which on closer inspection was grinning quite widely.

The feline padded over, sitting down with a paw lifted to its chin. Batter moved slightly in front of his Player, ignoring her exasperated look. This was a potential enemy and no matter _how_ big the threat, it would **_not_** touch his Player.

“There cannot be any other living beings in zone 0, so I must assume that you are only a mere figment of my imagination,” the cat drawled, eyes lazily tracing over the pair. The Player gave a soft gasp, making the Batter twitch. What was so amazing about a talking cat? He talked too and certainly didn’t get such a reaction.

The feline smirked. “Nevertheless, I will introduce myself. I am the Judge, and I am aching to know your name, dear elusory interlocutor.” The Judge’s eyes were fixed on the Player, who was too intrigued by a talking cat to be shy about it. Hm, no that would not do.

The Batter stepped forward, drawing the Judge’s gaze. “I am the Batter. I have been assigned to a sacred mission.” The amused feline rolled its eyes, huffing imperiously at the Batter.

“It is a pleasure. However, it is not the puppet I was addressing, but the puppeteer controlling it. What is your name, dear lady?” Its tail flicked to the side, as its eyes moved back to the Player. The Batter puffed up, not at all pleased with the idea of this impertinent feline speaking to _his_ Player.

“I’m afraid I cannot tell you, my dear felicitous feline. You may, however, call me the Player.” The Batter gave a soft, low grunt. It was better than her telling her name to that mangy thing, but he still wasn’t pleased that she was talking to this… _Judge_. Ah, that’s right.

“I believe we are in need of your services.” He watched the feline eagerly. The sooner he got what he needed from it, the sooner he could move his Player away from the scraggly thing. He would just kill it and be done, but the Batter had the strangest sense of dread at the thought.

The Judge gave a proud grin, stretching itself languidly. “Many people are in need of my services, you know. Everybody loves cats.” Before the Batter could react, the Judge was twined around the legs of his Player. He would have been seeing red, if that wasn’t his normal.

“We rub ourselves against their legs and purr in the most insistent manner. They adore that.” To his dismay, his Player knelt down with a soft smile and began petting the Judge. The Batter’s eyes twitched as a sense of jealousy filled him. That was _his_ Player, thank you very much, and _his_ Player belonged to _him._ As such, that cat needed to move and needed to move now.

He resisted the urge to sigh. If only he didn’t need the filthy thing to find his end goal. Alas, without the knowledge the cat had, he would never be able to get there. Hm, not that that was very important; with his Player here, he could still do the job. It would just be easier if he could get to the switch, and the last thing the Batter wanted was to put extra strain on his precious, pure Player. No, such things would not do and so, he needed that cat.

“I’m not talking about that kind of help.” The Batter barely had the willpower to not snap the sentence out.

The Judge detached itself from the Player, faint traces of disappointment in its voice as it said, “I see… But what sort of service could I offer to an ectoplasmic entity?”

The Batter drew himself up with pride, glancing discreetly over at his Player. “I have a sacred mission to fulfill. I must purify the world.” The Judge looked at him contemplatively, all joviality gone.

Finally, it answered the Batter’s proclamation. “There is no objective more laudable than yours. I accept to serve you as a guide through this area, if it is of any help to you.” The Batter almost threw his hands up. _Finally_.

“Thank you.” The Batter’s attention focused once more on the embodiment of his goal. “It would be most appreciated.” The Judge’s grin extended at her politeness, and it inclined its head before leaping up the building and disappearing into a window.

His Player turned to the Batter, seemingly more at ease after the not-so-brief (in the Batter’s opinion) interlude with the Judge. “Should we follow him?” The Batter furrowed his brow; why was she asking him? She was the puppeteer, she should be making the decisions. Unless… The Batter gave a minute smile. She was attempting to provide him the illusion of choice. How considerate of her. What a pure Player he had.

“We should follow it.” His Player nodded and walked off toward a ladder leaning against the building. At the top of the ladder they re-encountered the Judge, who had popped out of the building to wait for them there.

It—He, his Player had said—cocked his head at them, considering. “Allow me to confess that I find you quite tangible for phantasmagorical beings. Might you in fact be creatures of flesh and blood?”

The Batter stared at the cat for a moment. _Idiot._ “Yes.”

The Judge winced slightly. “So I have been mistaken from the beginning. You did not even interrupt me in my deluded phantasms…” He flicked his tail thoughtfully. “This is relatively bizarre, I must say, for you are the first living being I was given the chance to encounter in this lieu. I had in fact concluded that zone 0 was an empty land. Obviously I was misled.”

The Judge hmm-ed, flicking his tail once, twice, three times more before settling. “However, there exist other zones. And in those territories, the risk of hostile individuals attacking you in the most violent manner is quite high.” His eyes flickered to the Batter. “Your sacred mission will likely lead you into these lands. Would you like me to teach you the art of violent confrontation?”

The Batter quickly shook his head, before his Player had the chance to speak. He certainly did not wish to deal with that. “No. Thank you though.” The Judge nodded, before bounding ahead back into the building. His Player looked at him curiously, no judgement for his superseding her decision, but the Batter looked away. She shrugged before continuing on into the building herself.

Inside was a strange room, with numbers on the wall and boxes floating placidly about. “What?” the Player questioned in a flat tone. She inched a little closer to the Batter, who noticed immediately. She put her trust in him so thoroughly, so soon? It filled his chest with pride and set his eyes aglow. However, he put this aside for the moment as he assessed the room.

Nothing that could be of any harm to his Player, with the exception of that deplorable Judge, who sat before a blocked stairwell. Ugh, it seemed he was speaking again. “Ah, yes. To pass through here, you need to use your cerebral organ. You know, the one bathing flabbily in your tired cranium.” The Batter bristled. Who did this cat think he was?

A light touch on his arm sent ripples through his disguise, nearly tearing it in some places as the burning sensation scorched him. His head whipped around, ready to fight—and he stopped, red eyes wide with amazement at the sight of a small hand resting on his elbow. She was touching him, a being of immense purpose and purity touching a tainted puppet.

“I got the puzzles, you do the fighting.” With that she quickly flitted around the room, touching the four boxes. The blocks around the stairs down vanished, and the Judge eyed her approvingly.

“I’m most pleased to see _one_ of you has the intelligence required to pass the puzzles.” This cat was fixing to be punted. He had to make sure his Player did not see, however; she appeared to be growing increasingly attached to the wretched thing.

A few more floors of puzzles passed, the Batter watching in awe as his Player quickly solved each of them, until they reached the last floor. The Judge dashed across the floor to a small bowl.

“Ahaha, finally! After all that exertion, the eagerly awaited recompense makes its entrance to the scene!” He promptly shoved his face into the bowl of cat food and began munching. The Batter stared at the bat in disbelief, as his Player placed her head in her palm.

_This moron._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things don't really heat up in this story till they leave zone 0, so please hang in there. Also, the first couple of chapters will be coming out pretty quickly, as I only need to perform some minor edits. Don't get used to quick updates--I'm notoriously bad about updating on time.
> 
> Also, I would like to thank those who left kudos and comments! I honestly wasn't expecting any, seeing as this is a smaller--if beloved--fandom, and that it is several years after the height of OFF's popularity. Hopefully, you all will continue to enjoy the story.
> 
> Oh, and before I forget. Most of the intensity of Batter's opinions on the Player are based on research I've done regarding people who are obsessed with another. So while it may seem unrealistic, the level of absurd rationalization these individuals will go to is very similar.


	3. zone 0-3: REDO

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: I do not own OFF, or the affiliated characters. I only own the vague Player character.  
> Warning: Rated T for Obsession.

The Batter tightened his grasp on his bat, glaring at the Judge, who had his face smashed into the bowl in front of him gleefully. He was going to _smash_ that vile cat into a pulp for wasting his Player’s time! Speaking of, the Batter turned to look at her as she strode out a door on the right side of the room. Following, the Batter found they were back where they began… and that his Player was kneeling on the ground before a chest.

“Huh, silver flesh?” She stood up with the preserved meat in her dainty hands, turning to look at him. “What a weird thing to keep in a chest…” The Batter’s eyes widened. How innocent, how _pure_! She did not even realize that meat was for consumption! Truly, she was the example of his end goal.

Taking the meat from her hand delicately, or as delicately as his tainted being could, he explained. “If I consume this, I will regain some of my health.” His Player’s eyes widened in comprehension, before she took the meat back, and it vanished from her hand.

“Ah, I should have realized. I’ll have to make sure to remember that, though. I wouldn’t want you walking around hurt!” Such magnanimity, to care for such a wretched creature as himself, and make no mistake, a creature he was. He was reminded of this continually as her sheer purity caused his disguise to ripple once again. She smiled at him before going back inside, the Batter trailing after her like a lost puppy.

Slipping passed the Judge, who was still stuffing his face, the Batter followed his Player through the other door. Outside was a small land bridge connecting to a tiny island, barely big enough to house the red cube that sat upon it. The Batter slid in front of his Player, holding his bat tightly. No risks were to be taken with his Player’s safety. Ever.

Making sure his Player was safely behind him, the Batter tapped the cube with his bat. The red block floated up, causing the Batter to push his Player further behind him. It would not harm his Player.

“Here is an accessory that is going to be especially helpful on your purifying quest, dear enlightened student and sportive friend.” The Judge’s voice rang out from behind them, and the Batter turned to look back, still keeping an eye on the cube. Like hell he was going to trust the mangy feline that had wasted his Player’s time. “It is a cube, hovering in midair, as you have likely noticed. Nevertheless, you will be able to differentiate it from similar ones by contrast of bad taste it imposes on your view of its clashing color, defying any sensible course of plastic arts.”

His Player turned to look at the Judge. “Plastic Arts?” The Judge nodded, flicking his tail back and forth, grinning maniacally.

“You will learn about that later. However, do not judge it too quickly, because despite its criticizable appearance, this red cube is of undeniable use. Aside from rendering you the entirety of your health and competence points, it is capable of saving your progress and sending you to the nothingness.” Sounded like a load of garbage to the Batter, but he held his tongue as his Player’s eyes widened and she gave a nod.

“That _is_ pretty useful, especially if competence points are action points as I believe them to be. However, what is the Nothingness?” The Batter swelled with pride. So smart his Player was, but far too trusting of the feline.

“Not the Nothingness, the nothingness. The nothingness is a lieu of transition outside of space itself, where you can travel from one point to another at the speed of light.” The Judge nodded he head at the cube. “I now invite you to try it out, in order to discover locations more populous than this deserted land. Open your wings, my dear companions, and hurry away towards the following zones without hesitation! Your only enemy is the fear that will grab you.”

Eager to leave the presence of the chatty cat, the Batter quickly replied. “Okay.” His Player looked at the Judge questioningly, and he gave a chuckle. He raised a paw to clean his whiskers of the remains of his meal.

“Do not worry, I too travel a lot through the different zones of the world. We will newly meet one another eventually without a doubt.” Joy. “Ah!” What more could this thing have to say? “By the by, take this. This object of a curious name will be the key that permits you to enter zone 1. Have I clarified that you can at any time consult your inventory and characteristics by pressing the Esc key?”

His Player ohh-ed. “I was wondering how to retrieve items from storage. Thank you Judge.” Turning to look at the Batter, his Player smiled. “By viewing your characteristics, I can make sure you are always properly equipped for combat.” The Batter nodded; how wise, to be already thinking ahead to future conflicts.

The Judge padded forward to drop a card at his Player’s feet, before retreating back into the building. _Finally_. She knelt down and retrieved the card.

“The leo-key, huh?” She grabbed the Batter’s hand, causing his eyes to widen at the contact. With such ease did she touch his dirtied flesh, overlooking his soiled soul in her innocence. So caught up in his thoughts and the pain her touch brought, the Batter didn’t even notice that his Player had activated the cube until it sucked them in. Squeezing them tightly, in his panic the batter grasped his Player, curling around her to keep her safe. He was such a fool! He had not been paying attention, and now his Player was in possible danger. Another failing on his contaminated soul.

However, there was never an impact, only the ceasing of being squished. “Batter… There’s a door.” Peering around his Player, the Batter caught sight of the aforementioned door. Once he was certain there was no immediate threat to his Player did the Batter focus on what she had said. His name.

Oh, how his name rolled off her tongue like the sweetest of sugars, addictive and maddening. He wanted her to say it again and again, but no, he could not be greedy. The fact that one as pure as his Player would even deign to say his name once was a blessing.

“Hmmm,” the Batter grunted, too overcome to say anything more. So caught up in the moment, it only took the smallest bit of coaxing to get the Batter to go through the door, and into zone 1.

Zone 1 was very different from zone 0. The ground was a similarly fluorescent lime green, and the oceans were of plastic pink. The air also seemed thicker, something his Player noticed immediately. She reached in her pocket and pulled out a bandana, wrapping it around her neck. At his inquisitive look, she explained.

“The air here hurts my lungs a bit. If it gets too bad I’ll put the bandana on over my mouth and nose and breath through it.” The Batter watched his Player carefully. It made sense, in a world so impure, that a being of such purity would not be able to fully survive in such a tainted world. He would have to watch her carefully, to make sure that she took care of herself and rested when she needed to. She was so selfless that the Batter had no doubt that she would carry on even if she needed to rest direly.

So he would have to keep her healthy, as well as safe, and it was a burden he accepted with glee.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously, don't get used to these fast updates. Once the edited chapters are up, this will be slowed down quite a bit. That said, I am really going to try and push to get to some of the good stuff today (pulling an all-nighter to try and fix my sleep schedule) so there should be a couple more chapters uploaded today. Zone 1 officially starts next chapter, which is really where this story starts to hit its stride.


	4. zone 1-4: RETRY

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: I do not own OFF, or the affiliated characters. I only own the vague Player character.  
> Warning: Rated M for mildly graphic death, minor language and overt obsession. In text form. Reader discretion is advised.

The Batter looked around zone 1 curiously, all the while keeping an eye on his Player. He would see a red cube floating a little ways off, and a path branching in the opposite direction.

“Come on.” The Batter turned to look at her fully as she motioned him forward. “We won’t get anything done standing around here.” How driven. It moved his sooty heart. Following after his Player, the Batter could see a small train station. He sped up to get in front of her as soon as he noticed the Elsen.

The Batter paused. Elsen? Is that what they were called? How did he know that? Ah, no matter. They were a potential threat to his Player… who had snuck around him and was currently talking to one. No thought to her own safety! So gentle and kind! It truly was a beautiful scene.

The Elsen had to go, however.

“…and Train #1 is a really useful means of transport to get about zone 1. It can take you just about anywhere in the zone.” The Elsen wheezed a little as it spoke, but his Player took no notice.

“Really? Thank you for your help!” She waved goodbye as she swiftly strode back to the Batter, who had his eyes locked with the now sweating Elsen’s. Good, it should know better than to dare to speak with the Batter’s Player.

“Hey, so apparently this train can take us to the rest of the one. The guy over there was nice enough to give me a time table. It looks like the next train leaves in five minutes.” The Batter turned his eyes to his Player, who was looking over the time table intently. Now was the time.

He quickly strode over and checked the train car: empty. Good. “You should get on the train. I will be right behind you; I just wish to inquire about something from the Elsen.” His Player looked up at him, searching. She smiled, accepting his words at face value.

“Alright, but hurry! Wouldn’t want to leave without you.” She swiftly boarded the train, leaving a near glowing Batter behind her. She did not wish to become separated from him? How noble of her to care for him in such a manner! Or was she perhaps scared of the zone? Did she acknowledge him as her protector? Such trust.

However, the Batter could warmly ponder that later. Now he had to deal with the Elsen. Turning to the wheezing thing, his lips turned in a gruesome grin. This was why he was impure, a monster, unfit to breathe in the same smoke as his Player.

_ But He Loved It. _

His bat cracked down on the Elsen’s head, splitting its fragile skin like an overripe fruit. It cried out, but the Batter’s teeth in its throat quickly silenced it. Ripping flesh from the body with his fanged snout, the Batter slurped down the strips with glee. So tasty. So gratifying.

So little time.

And yet, so _hungry_.

The Batter stood up, his face cracking as it slid back into its disguise. Bending down, he snagged the limp arm of the Elsen, dragging it behind him as he strode to the edge of the platform. Tossing the mutilated corpse into the pink waves, he watched as its blood dissipated, not even tinting the ripples. He knelt, washing his mouth and bat off swiftly before boarding the train. Not even a moment after he did so did the train jolt into motion.

“Did you get your question answered?” His Player’s voice was sweet and soft, soothing the ragged edges of his riled mind, his irritation at not finishing a meal smoothing. The Batter looked at her in wonder. How could something so pure look at him in such a way? No judgement, no suspicions. Nothing.

He sat down next to her, taking care to not touch her. He couldn’t bring himself to soil her with his sin when it was so fresh. “Yes,” the Batter tilted his cap down further, “the Elsen was most _helpful._ ” His Player turned to look at him, a question on her lips. She never asked it, as she was quickly distracted by the view outside the window. She knelt on her seat precariously, making the Batter reach out toward her hesitantly. He couldn’t touch her, but what if she fell?

“Oh wow, even the rain is pink!” Looking at the genuine wonder his Player expressed, the Batter resolved himself. Grasping her gently, far more gently than anything he had ever done before, he lifted her up and placed her back into her seat firmly.

“Please sit properly. I would not want you to get hurt.” His Player looked at the Batter, who was studiously not looking at her. By doing such, he missed the slight flush across her cheeks, from being lifted like she weighed not even a feather’s worth.

The Batter himself was panicking, though his stoic exterior did not let on. She must think he overstepped his boundaries, and he did. Daring to touch his Player without permission, he was the worst kind of scum to bring his unholy flesh into contact with her in such a manner.

“…Okay.” The Batter’s head whipped around. She wasn’t mad? Rather, she was smiling at him, apologetically even! What impossibility is this? “Sorry,” Now she was apologizing, when he should be the one to do so. “I didn’t mean to worry you.” Ah, that made sense. His Player was always thinking of others, never of herself. Such pure selflessness was rare in this damned world. However, she not in the wrong, and he had to make sure his innocent Player knew that.

“No, I must apologize. I touched you without your permission.” The Batter gave a start at the little snicker his Player gave as she shook her head at him.

“Don’t be silly.” Silly, him? Only his Player. “That’s nothing to apologize for.” No, it really was. “I was doing something that you thought was dangerous, so you stopped me. I wouldn’t scold you for that.” That was a relief, but his Player was far too forgiving. “Besides, you kinda already hugged me earlier when we went into the nothingness.” She was right. He was scum of the highest order, bringing his monstrous self into contact with her so thoroughly.

“Hey,” The Batter refocused his eyes on his Player, who fidgeted a bit under his intense gaze. “If it makes you feel better, I give you permission to touch me if you think I am in danger.” The Batter was shocked, stunned, even flabbergasted at this. She not only trusted him to make decisions for her safety, but was giving him a standing okay to touch her if necessary? Yes, she was far too forgiving for her own good. But that was why the Batter was here, to protect all harm in the course of this quest. Even herself.

As the train pulled to a stop, the intercom announcing “Now Arriving in: Damien,” the Batter gazed at his Player in wonder. He would not abuse this trust.

The duo disembarked the train, his Player studiously ignoring how the Batter slipped between her and any nearby Elsen. Continuing on their way, they soon encountered a large building with a blocked off path just beyond it. An Elsen was standing in front of the building.

“V…visitors? I… Uhm… Welcome to the smoke mines.” His Player turned incredulous eyes to the Elsen as it continued. “Uh… may I know who you are?” The Elsen perked up slightly, its worried countenance straining to appear hopeful. “Are you inspectors?”

“No,” Oh, the Elsen sagged. “I am the Batter, and this is my Player. We’ve come to exterminate the impure spirits.”

“The… Batter… The… impure spirits?” If Elsen had a wider range of facial emotion than scared, sad, and worried, then this one would be emoting confusion. “Are you some sort of… prophet? Or perhaps a man of belief?” That was one way to put it, sure. A “man” of belief.

“Yeah. Something like that.” The Batter gave a small smirk at the idea, and nearly burst with pride when a small giggle came from behind him. Oh, his Player, so sweet.

“I… Who sent you?” The Elsen wheezed a bit as it gasped the question out in confusion.

“Nobody.” If the Batter was less dignified, he would have shrugged. As it was, he had an image to uphold. “I am being led by my Player.”

“Ah.” The Elsen turned to his Player, looking at her intently. “I don’t know you. You must be a member of the superior personnel…” Before his Player could deny it, the Elsen had moved on. “In any case that’s good. It means our requests have been acknowledged…” Requests? Certainly it couldn’t mean to— “Here, I’m going to explain your task.” It was. Te impertinent thing, daring to ask his Player and himself for favors.

“Um… You’re at the smoke mines of Damien, the southern part of zone 1.” The Batter gave the Elsen a look, and his Player stood on tiptoe to whisper up into the Batter’s ear. Shivers wracked his body at the slight breeze from her words.

“Better settle in. I think we are in for a history lesson.” The Batter followed her orders, relaxing his stance ever so slightly. Not enough that he wouldn’t be ready for any potential threats, though.

“Here, we send workers into deep tunnels to unearth metal from the ground, freeing embedded smoke that was trapped in the depths. Thanks to a variety of tools we are able to put some of it into bottles, which the Queen sends to other zones.” The Batter tensed, drawing his Player’s attention. The Queen… Oh, he remembered her.

A light touch to his back brought him from his dark thoughts. “You okay Batter?” He gave a nod—his name, how thoughtful of his Player—in reply and turned his attention back to the Elsen.

“The rest of it flows free, forming the air that our lungs inhale and exhale… uh… so we can live.” Well, Elsen were never the smartest bunch. “As the first of four elements, it’s an important element. Because without smoke, people would have nothing to breathe. Uh… there we are. And so…” The Elsen fumbled with its words. “Finally… uh… How do I put this?” Just say the words already! The Batter was about to kill this annoying thing.

“Where are the impures?”

“Uh… yes, there we go.” Oh good grief. “There are many spectres in the mines. They are becoming more and more aggressive. But uh, in fact, it would be better if you didn’t enter the mines… because…” The Elsen hesitated, looking at the Batter.

“Because what?” His Player leaned around the Batter, face curious at the Elsen’s strange reluctance to answer.

When the Elsen finally did answer, the Batter could feel his Player’s disbelief. “Because regulations forbid visitors to access them.”

And this was why nothing ever gets done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Starting down the road of getting darker, zone 1 is where things get started. Still, a lot of general game dialogue to go before we get into any real fun. Also, I try to balance humor and darker content so that it is not overwhelming in either direction, so we'll see how that goes.
> 
> I think I'll be able to get one last chapter to you guys today before I'm fried, but at least its a doozy.


	5. zone 1-5: REMEMBER

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: I do not own OFF, or the affiliated characters. I only own the vague Player character.  
> Warning: Rated M for semi-graphic combat, mental disorders, and manipulation. The Batter’s got problems. Reader discretion is advised.

The Elsen looked around quickly, before leaning in slightly toward the Batter. “So, uh, here’s what we’re going to do” Oh please, the Batter sighed, let it be something somewhat intelligent. This was a waste of his Player’s time. And his. Mostly his Player’s though. “There’s an annex tunnel that nobody ever goes to. But a miner went in there some time ago… And he saw something strange, he said. Nothing like the usual.” Yes, that was generally what strange meant. “So I thought…” Oh, please go on. “maybe…” You maybe had a thought? Shocking. “it’s the chief of the spectres.” There we go.

The Batter snuck a glance over at his Player, who besides looking incredibly exasperated with the dimwitted Elsen, was beginning to look a bit soggy. That wouldn’t do; what if she caught a cold? He would have to nurse her back to health and—the Batter paused. Actually, that wouldn’t be too bad. But he had to ensure that she wouldn’t get sick. If this Elsen didn’t hurry up, the Batter was going to have to intervene. Perhaps he could mention that it was getting late?

“Uh…so, there’s your task. If you accept, you’ll go into the annex tunnel and kill the chief of the spectres… Then, the spectres will disappear and we can work properly again.” The Batter’s face was dead pan, not that different from usual really, but by purity, this _Elsen._ If it weren’t for the fact that he had just recently stained himself with sin, this Elsen would be his next consumption. As it was, the Batter did not dare to taint himself again so soon with is Player nearby; he ran the risk of possibly contaminating her when his sin was fresh like that. “There we go, there we, uh…” Still not done yet? “Do you have any questions?” Yes; will you shut up and let us go?

“No,” was his outward response. He did not wish to upset his Player with harsh words, after all. His Player patted his arm discreetly—so kind—and moved forward toward the Elsen. No, that wouldn’t do. The Batter subtly slipped between the two again, ignoring the dry look he got from his Player. Even if she found it irritating, her safety came first.

His Player sighed and gave a resigned shrug. “We’ll do it. Just calm down.” His Player was far too giving. She had no obligation to help this pathetic creature, but she willingly gave up her time on this important mission of theirs to assist the lesser! Oh, how his shriveled up heart twinged in admiration.

“Ah. Great. Impeccable.” And this creature was taking it for granted. He should be groveling beneath her at the very chance to speak with a being of such purity, but no. This creature treated her like she was only some middling superior of his department. Such a worthless thing, epitomizing what he had set out to eradicate in the first place. “The tunnel is right down there. I’ll wait here.” Coward.

The Batter was distracted from his more homicidal thoughts as his Player began walking to the South, the direction the Elsen had indicated. As he padded after her, he took the chance to observe her. She was so small (compared to him, anyway) and so delicate. She looked to him as if the smallest of winds would push her over. He puffed himself up; he would never let her come to harm, not even in such an odd manner. He promptly deflated as she gave a slight shiver. She was cold, and wet, and heading down into a dark tunnel.

He was not doing so well on the whole situation.

Striding forward, the Batter scooped up his Player—wrong, it was wrong for him to sully her in such a manner—and strode down into the tunnel. It may have been dark, and unsecured, but it was out of the rain and would allow a little bit of time for his Player to dry off. Stepping down into the tunnel, the Batter was surprised to see that it was fairly well lit.

And purple, but that was easily dismissed.

What was not so easily ignored was the familiar mew he heard down the hall, and the way his Player perked up. Was he not good enough? Did she favor that wretched feline more than she did him? For that matter, what was that mangy thing doing here? When he said they would meet at a later date, the Batter had assumed—and greatly hoped—it would be much later.

Squirming out of the Batter’s hold—and ignoring her warm cheeks—his Player slipped down the hall with a smile, the Batter swiftly following. And not pouting.

“Well well, who do we have here? Is that not my dear girl the Player and her picturesque jumping jack, the Batter?” Who the hell was he calling a jumping jack? He may march to his Player’s tune, but only loosely. He was the one holding the strings here, even if he did serve his _perfect pure gentle_ Player.

Then a thought occurred to the Batter, one so delicious that he dearly hoped he was right. It would be the perfect excuse to rid himself of the annoying feline. “Are you the spectres’ leader?” Oh please please please—

“Aha, no no, certainly not.” Damn it all. It was made worse by the brightening of his Player at the denial. Then again, she would never think the worst of someone, always believing the best. Just look at how she viewed him. “I am only passing through, not unlike the smoke which is being extracted from this pale and metallic place. However, I believe I know where the one you are taking for an ectoplasm can be found.”

“Ah, would you show us?” His Player asked the Judge so readily for help; did she not trust in his abilities? No, the Batter realized, she did. She was simply attempting to cut down on the effort he would have to expend to get the job done. He beamed internally; how considerate of his Player, thinking of a monster such as himself.

The Judge gave a grin to his Player and padded off down the hall. He called back to the duo following him as they went further in. “To tell the truth, I am perplexed. I think it is one of the peculiar objects called a spherical Add-On.” They emerge into a larger room, and there on the far side, was a strange ring-like object. It floated gently, leaning and bobbing as if fluttering in a light breeze. “I have very well tried to accroach it, but the operation has failed systematically so far.”

His Player hmm-ed in thought, examining the ring as the Judge continued, turning to the Batter. The same Batter that was nearly having a heart attack at the way the ring seemed to stretch for his Player. “But I am thinking… Maybe you, one who does not have a physical order, will succeed in affiliating this spiritual entity to yours.” The Batter nodded as he gently moved his Player away from the ring. In doing so, it brushed against his hand and a flash of white light engulfed him for a moment. Once it had cleared, the Batter could see the ring wrapped around his wrist like a bracelet.

“Oh!” What? What was wrong? He would destroy— “Its name is Alpha.” What, the ring? Well then.

“What an exceptionally intriguing phenomenon… I must admit that I remain perplexed by this unexpected, metaphysical reaction.” The Judge shrugged, an interesting gesture for a cat. “Fair enough; since it has decided to accompany you, I know only to advise you to make the best usage possible of it.”

“Got it,” the Batter said, hoping to move along and get the feline away from his Player. “The chief of spectres isn’t here?”

“Sorry, but I fear I have to respond in the negative. Apart from this Add-On, I have not crossed the way of a single soul in this lieu.” That struck the Batter as odd; had he not encountered the Elsen? Or perhaps… perhaps they were so degenerated that they could no longer be counted to have souls?

A light murmur from his right drew the Batter’s attention. His Player was standing there with a small, translucent screen in her hands. She was looking at different numbers and settings on the screen, which the Batter did not recognize. His name was there, and next to the word ‘Offensive’ was the name Harold Bat. The Batter glanced at the bat on his back; that was the name of his current weapon of choice. Could it be those were the ‘stats’ his Player had been referring to earlier?

The Batter felt warmed by the thought that his Player was checking up on him, even though he was not worthy of her attentions. He would never be worthy of her attentions.

Then again, no one else would be either.

______

Distracted by the possibilities the Add-On—Alpha, the Batter reminded himself—provided, his Player slowly made her way out of the tunnel, following a brief goodbye to the Judge. Oh, how the Batter loathed that cat; however, it seemed that getting rid of him would not be an option, with how his Player had become attached to the thing.

Outside the tunnel the Elsen they had spoken to earlier was waiting, nervously wringing its—his? Did Elsen have genders?—hands and wheezing. “Ah, you’re back! So, have you killed the… uh… the chief of the spectres?” His Player did not even look up from her screen, so intently examining the ‘stats’ she had mentioned prior. That meant the Batter was going to have to handle this interaction. Joy. Though, now that he thought about it, he would have handled it anyway, as that _filthy_ Elsen really had no right to be speaking to his Player.

“No. He wasn’t there.” At this his Player glanced at him, an amused expression adorning her face. He looked away; he was handling it, but no one said it had to be done eloquently. The Elsen missed the interaction however, looking far too crestfallen than any creature had a right to be.

“Oh… oh? Really?” No, we lied about it. “I… Bugger.” The Batter recoiled slightly. How _dare_ this Elsen use such language around his pure Player. “Crap.” And it kept going, too. It was settled, this creature would die. The Batter peered discreetly over at his Player, and was dismayed to see no reaction to the foul language. That meant someone had said it before in front of her, sullied her ears with silt and mud sloughing off their tongue. How wounded she must have been, to not even react to it now. The Batter’s tainted soul quaked at the thought that one would intentionally say such things in front of a being of such magnanimity and purity, but outwardly, he gave no reaction. Just like his Player.

That perked the Batter up some. “I… Well, then un…” And the Elsen was still talking. Which reminded him: murder, schedule this thing’s cleansing as soon as he could. “I believe that I’ll have to let you enter into the main gorges, then.” That gave the Batter pause; perhaps not so soon then, as the Elsen was progressing them through the area. Definitely will still happen though.

His Player snapped her screen shut and put it away, turning her full attention to the Elsen. “Won’t that get you in trouble, though” The Elsen shifted uncomfortably, answering her question after a short period of time.

“The regulations do oppose it… but, uhm, alright uh… I…I suppose this is a very special case, as stated in paragraph five.” The Elsen gave a faint smile, eyes carefully away from the intense stare of the Batter. “So, uh… Good, well, the main mines are on the right.” The Elsen pointed behind him, as the blockage in the path sunk into the ground. “There.”

The Elsen gave another small smile, before inquiring “Will you find the chief of the spectres? Finally… It would be great if that was possible… Finally… yes…” His Player nodded and slipped around him to head on. The Batter did not immediately follow, staring at the nervous Elsen. What did it mean “finally”? Was this an ongoing issue of theirs? Hmm, ponderance for another time; the Batter could see his intrepid—and far too trusting for her own good—Player questioning some other Elsen. The Batter quickly strode to her side, but only caught the answer to what his Player had inquired.

“There are phantoms down there… They keep us from working properly.” The Elsen shrugged. “But now it’s breaktime for me anyways.” His Player gave an amused huff, before heading over to another of the Elsen. She had not even spoken yet when the Elsen rudely interrupted.

“What are you doing here? Are you the mine inspector?” The Batter was furious. This thing, not even fit to scrap the dust off of his boots, dared to question his Player? His Player was pure, while the Elsen was so corrupted he could see it. Yes, with his eyes blessed by divine mission, and his soul filled with duty, he could see it. He could see the way their skin rippled, not unlike his, though their skins split every so often, spilling soot into the air before sealing up quickly. Despicable creatures that they were, they were an insult to his Player’s very existence.

His Player wouldn’t think that way, however. He could see the impurity because he himself was stained by it, but had had his eyes opened by divinity. His precious Player could not, blinded by the innocence and guiltlessness that radiated from her skin. That holy light that glowed from her flesh had more than once threatened his hold on his disguise, but he was becoming more adept at handling the revolt his impurity and sin gave when he came too close to his Player.

Looking at the impudent Elsen with lidded eyes, the Batter moved between his Player and the thing. Not even letting his Player respond—this thing was even less worthy of her attention than most things—he hurried her down the path to the stairs. His eyes met the Elsen’s, shivers wracking its small frame. It knew that this wasn’t over.

Down in the tunnels was a break room, which contained three Elsen doing nothing. Or, near nothing; they were still breathing. _Not for long though._ His Player asked some questions of the Elsen, but the Batter did not listen. He could feel it, further down in the mines, the brushing sensation tingling against his skin. It was the sensation that the Elsen lacked, he realized, the feeling that they should have, but do not.

It made him nervous.

“Hey, Batter?” The Batter snapped to attention, insides wriggling at how she said his name so casually. She must hold him in regard to speak to him so lightly. Focus, Batter. His Player was speaking to him. “The Elsen said that the lights are out in some of the *cough*, tunnels, and that it is easy to get lost down here. *cough*” The Batter registered what she said and stored it away for later. Ignoring how his mind and heart screamed at him for his improprieties, the Batter reached down and raised the bandana up around her face. She was having a harder time breathing down here in the smoke mines, most likely due to the impurities.

After a few moments his Player’s coughing subsided. “Sorry, I’m not used to breathing smoke.” What was she used to breathing then, he wondered. He dared not ask, however; speaking would only cause her to have to breathe in more of the smoke.

“Try not to speak, you will only breathe in more smoke.” His Player nodded, not saying a word. How easily she trusted him, how simply she did as he said. It was so easy to get his pure, perfect Player—his puppeteer—to obey him. He shuddered at his own impurity, for his audacity to dare to manipulate a behind as pure as she.

What a monster he was, in form and in soul.

Entering deeper into the mines, the Batter kept an eye out for any spectres. By the time they had reached the first room, he was restless. Where were they? He could feel them on his skin, and from the way his Player had gravitated to him, she felt something as well. The Batter could stand it no longer; placing his Player by a yellow box, which began floating after she touched it, and remembering that it was a safe spot, the Batter yelled hie challenge.

“Show yourselves, corrupted children! I am the voice of forgiveness that will eliminate your calamitous forms.” _I am the force of reckoning, guided by divine souls and aided by purity incarnate._ As the Batter’s declaration echoed away, the room grew colder. The prickling increased and the Batter raised his bat.

“Batter, look out!” At his Player’s warning, the Batter spun, and found himself surrounded by… oh. It only took that one look, that split second before the battle begun to understand. He pushed that understanding aside; the only thing left for these was purification.

“Prepare yourselves for my judgement.” With that, the battle began. A small visor slipped down over the Player’s eyes, words appearing on the lower half. The Batter felt a tug on his arms and peering at them could see faint, glimmering lines attached. _Puppet strings_. She would control his movements, give him direction in battle as she had given to him in life, but only as much as he allowed.

For puppet strings are fragile, and work best when the puppet does not fight against them.

But for now, he would let his glorious Player control his movements. When the time came, he would snap them to act on his own. Swinging his bat forward as commanded, he whiffed the spectre in front, who swiftly floated back from his attack. The Batter could see words appear on the visor his Player wore, knowing the words before they appeared.

_Common Spectre (x8)_

_Mysterious ectoplasmic incarnation._

_HP: 10 / CP: 0_

_Light resistance against smoke._

The Batter knew those words as soon as he missed, as if they were seared directly into his mind. They meant nothing to him, but to his Player they meant something. That was all that mattered at this point: winning and his Player.

The Player made a hand motion, and Alpha—who at some point had enlarged itself and was now floating sedately beside the Batter—swung forward aggressively, slicing through one of the spectres. It gave no sound as it vanished, but faintly the Batter could hear, in the distance, a strangled choke. The Batter shifted his eyes toward the Player, noticing how she had stiffened up. _Had she heard it?_

Pondering this, the Batter came to a conclusion. _Best to act now, it seems._ Flexing his aura, he pushed against the puppet strings, sending waves down the lines to his Player. The shock of his sin against her purity made her stagger, and collapse on the ground. The puppet strings melted as the Batter stretched, ignoring the guilt he felt at seeing his Player crumpled on the ground. He had to, he needed to win.

He needed her to not know what he knew.

Swinging his bat violently, he pulverized another spectre. Alpha darted around him occasionally, ripping through one, until between the two of them there were no more to be seen. The Batter did not pause to savor the victory, slipping over to his Player and lifting her. On her visor, he could see another message.

_400 experience gained. Luck Ticket obtained. Luck Ticket obtained. Luck Ticket obtained…_

The Batter dismissed the visor and looked at the glazed eyes of his Player. What a creature he was, to attack her in such a manner. This, he swore, would be the only time this happened, the only time he forced himself into her in this way. He pushed his soul into her, reaching into her mind. If she knew, she would never do it, too consumed by guilt to continue on. This was for the best.

He pulled out a faint wisp, curling it around his fingers languidly. Opening his moth, he swallowed the memory. It felt so good, the soft burning of innocence lighting up his insides. It tasted pure and good and delicious and perfect and amazing and he wanted more. So much more.

He wanted her everything, to eat her purity up like that memory. He would never _eat_ her, no. But could keep her, keep making memories with her and taking them from her and eating and enjoying… _yes._

 _No._ He could not sin in such a way, taking advantage of the trust that his Player had bestowed upon him. It would taint her _it wasn’t hurting her_ and it was bad _who says’s? just you_ and he wouldn’t do it again _but it taste so good._ The conflict pulled at the Batter’s skin, ripping it open like wet tissue, spilling his real form out. He recoiled at the sight of his leathery, corrupted flesh coming into contact with her soft, holy skin. He set her down swiftly, and moved away, trying to grasp his disguise. His claws ripped into his skin, tore through his shirt to draw blood as he curled up on the far side of the room.

He needed to be human. She would hate him if he wasn’t human. She would hate him if she knew what he had just done, will keep doing. She would hate him if _she knew but she wont know because you won’t let her know, right?_ Right, she wouldn’t know the truth. For her own good and the good of this world, _I wont let her know the truth._

“…Batter?” The tremulous voice of his Player froze him. No, not now, no please not now. _She will see and hate an dseeand hateandleaveusaloneandnodonotgopleasepleasepleasepleaseplease—_

“Are you alright? You look scared.” And the Batter’s world shattered. Why? Why? _Why? WhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhWhyWHYwhywHYWHY? Why did she have to see me likethis? Shehatesmehateme. I won’t let her hate me, Icannotletherhateme._

The Player placed her hand on his curled up form, ignoring his flinch. “Is it because you killed the spectres that you feel bad?” _She sees me, touching me. Whydoes she not hateme?_

“youwillhateme” the Batter slurred out, his snout distorting the words into more of a “yoeillateme” than anything else, but his Player still understood. Slipping in front of him, she lifted his so he was looking at her. And in her eyes, the Batter saw _understanding._

“I don’t hate you, Batter.” His skin tingled at his name, his jaw burning _deliciously_ at her touch. “We had to do this. We had to, for the mission, remember? I don’t like it either, but we must.” _She did not understand, not upset about that. She is SEEING me and is not—_

“Is it because you were worried about looking like this?” The Batter recoiled from her, tail slapping the ground next to her crouching form. _See, badcouldhave hurt her, you monster, demon, disgustingsinfulevilcreature notworthynotworthanything._

“I am not afraid of you, Batter.” The Player murmured, watching with sad eyes as he scrambled to get away from her. The words made him stop his flight.

“…whhhhyyyy?”

“Because I have seen much worse than you, Batter.” His Player’s voice was quiet as she sat down next to him. Her hand brushed against his bleeding arm, letting him know she had seen it. _What could be worse than me?_ “I have seen wars, and I have seen death. I have witnessed monsters kill for sport.” She peered over at him, bitter amusement in her eyes. It didn’t suit her, not one bit, the Batter decided. “It takes a lot more than a nice” what? “guy” debatable “who turns into a lizard creature” that was not debatable “to scare me, Batter. A lot more.” She passed him the Silver Flesh from earlier, before looking away.

The Batter watched as his Player stood up, stretching. “Well, I’ll be over by the cube. I have to organize our progress so far. Come to me when you are ready.” After she left, the Batter sat there, his four eyes glowing red as he watched her, claws piercing the raw meat in his grasp.

Why was she so accepting? Why did she have to be so good? The Batter did not acknowledge his vison getting blurry, as red droplets slipped down his muzzle. Why was she not afraid of him? The Batter shifted, his form slowly constraining into that of a human. He showed the meat into his mouth, carefully so as to avoid making a mess, the blood running down his throat, healing his self-inflicted wounds.

 _She would hate me if she knew. It’s only a matter of time before it sinks in._ He stood up, slipping quietly behind her as she sorted their progress. He reached for her head and—

“Batter? Why are you crying? Is something wrong? Why is your shirt ripped? I don’t recall seeing that in the fight.”

“It happened at the end, when you were getting the drops.”

“Oh, shoot. I must have missed it then. Lucky you didn’t get hurt though, huh?”

_ It _

_ Tasted _

_ So _

_ Good _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so some concepts have been introduced from my head cannon here that are not really explained. DON'T WORRY, WE WILL GET THERE. It is purposefully vague right now, but it will all be explained later. 
> 
> About the Mental Breakdown part. The Batter that I have portrayed is self-loathing, finds himself to be a monster, lower than dirt. His only self worth-in his eyes- is the regard of the Player and the completion of his mission. The idea of losing one of those two things was not something he could handle, so he broke. This is a theme that is possibly going to pop up again in the future.
> 
> Also, the first story on Corrupted Save matches up to this point. Reading beyond it could bring spoilers.
> 
> And that's the last chapter for today. See you next drop.


	6. file slot 1: JUDGE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> JUDGE (Two Encounters and Innumerous Conclusions)
> 
> Classification: Canon-to-RESTART, Possibly-Canon-to-Original-OFF
> 
> Time Frame: zone 0-2 / zone 1-5
> 
> Location: CS1
> 
> RATED: T

_What will you do, Judge, when confronted with an angel and the devil?_

He didn’t know what to make of the interloper and her picturesque jumping jack.

The first meeting was quite enjoyable. The patricianly puppeteer was quite relaxed, smiling at him as he spoke, as if she had not a care in the world. The pernicious puppet was puffed out, inching his way in front of his Player. The Judge wanted to scoff; like that minuscule movement would impede his advance should he so choose. To mock the fool, the Judge twined himself through the Player’s legs, purring as she pet him gently. Out of the corner of his eye he watched the Batter twitch, restraining himself and the Judge smirked when the man snapped at him.

When the Batter informed him of the portentous purpose set to him and her, the Judge had to think. What would a Batter be doing with such a momentous mission? It tickled his whiskers in just the wrong way. Something was very off about the interlocutor, as if his skin was not his skin, but rather a fictitious facsimile of a face. However, the purity of purpose in the puppeteer cleared his doubts, and he offered his services to the puzzling pair. He even grew fond of the Player herself, as she assisted him in getting his lunch. How delightfully generous, he found her! Such a rarity in these times.

The second meeting was what made him truly wonder. In his investigation of the perplexingly peculiar ring, he stumbled across the duo again. The Player was much too pale, looking as if the very smoke around her was pressing in far too tightly. The Batter focused on himself with unwavering precision, and the Judge could feel the intent to crush his cuddly form pour off the tall man. It set his fur on point, not that he would be so undignified as to let that show. Never. It worried him though; what prevented the cruel creature beneath that camouflage of civility from ripping off its cloak? The vulnerably venerable venturer had no defenses of her own. If the toxins seeped through the concealment like a pernicious predator, what could she do? But the Judge hid his concerns in quips and quotes.

When the Add-on—Alpha, as the Player asserted—latched on to the spiritually bereft Batter, the Judge knew. He watched the false flesh of the prophet puppet ripple, barely clinging to the falsehood of humanity. While the Player may be pure in her intent, something very vicious was veiled in the Batter. He made his decision; while he may normally not venture beyond his anatomically amiable abode, he had to investigate. He had to watch. He had to understand what was so terribly and truly toxicant about that athletic anybody. He had to try to contain the beast within the Batter.

He felt it in his whiskers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So some of my short stories regarding OFF and RESTART will be posted on this story as well as Corrupted Save, in this format. Only ones that I believe will impact how you view characters, future interactions, or areas will be here. However, there are exclusive sides that are only on Corrupted Save. 
> 
> Also, these will not impact the regular update schedule for this story, which I am setting to a chapter every Friday. Any side stories posted here are additional to those updates. 
> 
> And finally, I wanted to spotlight a piece of fanart I received! Thank you to Lilie47 on DeviantArt for this wonderful piece.  
> 


	7. zone 1-6: RECALL

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italicized Sentence: The Batter thinking to himself/Text from the Visor  
> Italicized Word: Emphasis  
> Italics Underlined: Mental Breakdown  
> Bolded Words: Heavy emphasis  
> Bolded Words behind “::” : Game Text
> 
> DISCLAIMER: I do not own OFF, or the affiliated characters. I only own the vague Player character.  
> Warning: Contains hints for future plot, game spoilers, and allusions to darker subjects (like we aren’t already going there). Rated T for non-graphic, but definitely awkward combat.

The trek through the mines was agonizing, with spectres seeming to lurk behind every corner, impeding progress. Every single one made the Batter nervous—what if she remembered? But his Player did not remember, only looking puzzled for a brief moment before continuing on. She could feel a faint tickle at the back of her mind, but with no catalyst to trigger it, she brushed it away. She couldn’t hear the screams in the distance, being far too deep into the mines. Even if she was not so far away from their source, the screams would have fallen on deaf ears. The Batter had tainted ­ _twisted_ her mind, shutting out certain sounds from her hearing. The deception was heresy, to deceive such a pure and noble being as his Player was treasonous and vile, but it had to be done. He could not afford for her to falter in her path to the end.

The smog in the minds thickened the further they descended, causing the Batter to watch his Player with concern. His Player was far too pre to breathe smoke as the beings of this wretched world did. He had instructed her to inform him of the slightest of issues in her breathing, but the Batter knew she would not—though he could hope. His Player was far too giving, too selfless and noble to stop their quest for her own safety; as such, the Batter had to watch her carefully. So intent on his Player, the Batter nearly missed the faint hiss from the dismal tunnel before them. Ignoring his Player’s protests—her happiness was second to her safety, though it pained him to disobey—the Batter stood before her, readying his bat with a grim expression. What crawled from the gloom made him clench his bat tighter.

It was no spectre.

A sooty hand emerged from the murky shadows first, naught but bones and thin skin. It was followed by a twig-like limb, attached to a thin body upon which its skin hanged by mere threads like tattered cloth. The Batter took in its entirety, moving his Player behind him more firmly. The creature was all jagged edges and jutting angles, a contorted shape, covered in soot and leaking smoke. Its ribs pressed through its inadequate skin with every breath, dust hissing out from behind serrated teeth like the air of a punctured balloon.

No, it most certainly was not a spectre, nor an Elsen. Not anymore. This boded poorly.

“What… What is that?” His Player’s voice was thick with shock, as she gazed upon the emaciated husk of a creature. She flicked her visor down, tilting her head as she examined it. “Batter, could you swing a Wide Angle, please?” He obeyed, the creature flinching back from the swing, and the words scrolled across her screen and through his mind.

_January (x1)_

_Ghoul with a dusty breath_

_HP: 20 / CP: 15_

_Light weakness against metal._

January: just as the Batter feared, this zone was further along than he thought. The Batter cut his eyes over to his Player, looking for any indication that she understood what stood before them. She wouldn’t, he knew that. She did not have all the pieces to this particular puzzle, not after what he did. Still… the lingering fear that she would understand, that she would _know_ was acidic in his chest. He couldn’t let her know; it would crush her soul, taint her innocence.

The Player was oblivious to the Batter’s eagerness to remove January, which was swiftly dispatched with a Run with Courage. The Batter hustled his Player further into the mines, toward a large room. Unsurprisingly, it was filled with spectres. The Batter made short work of them with his Player’s masterful directions, and turned to leave the room.

“Ah!” His Player’s exclamation sent panic through the Batter’s veins. Was she hurt? Did he fail his Player? He swirled around, bat at the ready. While no enemies greeted his eyes, he recoiled at what he saw. His Player was holding a chain. This alone was not bad, though the dust on it soiled her skin, but the Batter could see beyond the physical sense of the chain. He could see it dripping with impurity as sickening as his own, moving with the consistency of sludge. He could not let it continue to touch her, to stain her hands. He snatched it from her swiftly, moving to toss it far away.

“Wait, no! Don’t get rid of it, that’s a Saturated Chain! It allows you to do a low impact special attack.” The frantic pleas of his Player made him stop. They also mystified him.

“…Special attack?” What in hell was that? It sounded like what a child would shout while pretending to be a hero. A child… The Batter shoved the memories back. No, there was no time for such things. They did not matter anyway.

“Yeah, a special attack. It’s an attack that allows you to do extra damage or inflict a status condition, like poison or paralysis.” What even. That did not make any sense; how could a chain, even a chain as soaked in sin and impurity as this, allow him to cause more damage to a foe? How would it even inflict a _status condition_? It was baffling and made. No. Sense.

As the Batter contemplated this strange system, his Player had already moved on. And somehow found an Elsen. The Batter could have cried; how, in these near abandoned mines, filled with hostile creatures that attacked anything that moved, did she find an impure being to speak with? It was an impossibility, but then again, everything about his Player was impossible. She was _pure,_ something that before his mission, the Batter had never thought possible.

He paused. Before? What was before? He could not remember. No matter, that was the past. He had the now to deal with. Specifically the now of that impudent creature daring to speak to his Player. Striding over, his imposing frame towered over the pair. The Elsen shook and turned to face the wall.

“I’m… I’m working… I’m being productive…” And no more was said, as the cowed Elsen did not dare to face them again. Good. He was scum; he had no place fouling the air around his Player with its filth and drivel. The Batter turned away from the fearful Elsen to face his Player. Who was not standing where she should have been—next to him, _safe_ —but was already exiting the room. His Player had no self-preservation, it seemed. Then again, pure beings generally believed the best of everyone and would not dare to think one would be the worst. It affirmed to the Batter, who had hurried to her side, that his Player was of the utmost purity. Clean of this world’s failings and sin, her pureness radiating off her flesh like the glow of a star. Perfection.

Further wanderings proved nothing, and the Batter was growing irritated. What fool had built this place? It was made of nothing but dead ends. It had no purpose! The Batter paused. That actually was not all that surprising, considering the Elsen.

“Hey, look.” His Player’s voice drew the Batter’s attention to where she stood. She was inspecting a dimmed lamp. “There’s a switch under it.” Before he could stop her, his Player had flipped the switch and taken his hand. The instant her skin—soft, pure, sweet, _sweet_ —touched his own tough, tainted skin, all rational thought left the Batter, even as his skin rippled with the contact. Everything was a daze as he was pulled through the mines. Looking down at his Player, the Batter could see a touch of pink across her cheeks.

That worried him. Was she getting sick from her continued exposure to the smoke? Was it because she was touching him, and his aura was hurting her? Thousands of thoughts swarmed through his mind, and he fretted over each possibility. Was she deficient of something she required? A light went off in the Batter’s head. Of course! She was tired. While the Batter did not require rest himself, his Player most certainly did. But where to go to ensure she could sleep? He could not let her rest on the floor; he still felt guilty that he had laid her on the ground earlier _when he_ —no, do not think about it. The temptation would be too great.

When the Batter resurfaced from his thoughts—he seemed to be quite oblivious lately, which was highly unacceptable in such a hostile environment—he found himself standing before a ladder, which his Player had already begun to ascend. That was also unacceptable. What if there had been something up there that could have harmed her? Not only would he have her death on his head—he had many deaths he was responsible for, but the thought of hers bothered him—but his mission would have also failed. He resolved himself. No more drifting, his failures were endangering his Player and mission.

***cough***

His head snapped up and the Batter’s eyes narrowed on his Player, who was studiously avoiding his gaze. He knew the smoke was getting to her. Leaping up the ladder he scooped her up in his arms, ignoring how wrong _right_ it felt for her to be there. Her purity brushed against his sin and burned, but he soldiered on. He could not let her overexert herself, even if that meant soiling her with his sin and tarnishing her soul.

“Hey!” A look down at his Player confirmed his suspicions. Her cheeks were flushed behind her bandana, and her breathing was stuttered; the Batter could feel her heart pounding far too fast. She was clearly exhausted, and having trouble breathing. How noble of his Player, to push on without regard for her own heath, such pure intentions. However, the Batter had to ensure she was hale and healthy, as she was the epitome of what he strove to achieve. He would have to disobey her wishes—though the thought was painful, of scum such as himself _daring_ to defy her—to keep her so.

The Batter tightened his arms slightly. He was a failure. First he could not ensure her comfort earlier in the rain—which he now noted to still be occurring—and now he was such a disast _rous monster_ that he did not see how his Player was pushing herself beyond her limits to ensure the success of the mission. Even when he was blessed with a holy mission, given a purpose to his horrible life, he still could not bring himself to succeed. What a _monster_ he was, the Batter realized, still able to faintly taste the metallic tint of blood on his tongue. How disgusting he was, with his skin holding together by threads, unable to withstand the purity in his Player’s own flesh.

How _worthless_ he was.

“Wh…what?” The stuttered question was almost drowned out by the rain, which the Batter had hunched himself over to prevent from hitting his Player. An Elsen stood before them, confusion plain on its generic face. “Did you come from the smoke mines?” NO, we came from the sky. Of course we came from the smoke mines, you fool. The Batter felt his Player shift slightly, and his face reddened. He had said that aloud.

Louder, the Batter replied, trying to cover his blunder. “Yes.” The Elsen made no indication that anything was wrong—well, that the Batter could tell; Elsen all had a faintly worried look to them. For all he know, this one could be having an existential crisis.

“But…But… But there are loads of spectres down there…” So this was how this conversation was going to go, hm? The Player made to answer, but the Batter gave her a stern look, and she looked away. Seemed she felt a little guilty at deceiving him about her health, which the Batter knew she would. She was too kind and gentle not to feel some form of regret.

“Yes,” the Batter finally replied, looking up from his precious burden. No, never a burden. Precious…what?

“Are you a spectre?” The Batter stilled, looking at the Elsen incredulously. There was no way in hell this thing was that stupid. It was just not biologically possible. The Batter felt his Player give a silent giggle at the question, or perhaps the look of disbelief that had broken through his deadpan façade. At the increasingly—maybe—worried look on the Elsen’s face, the Batter realized it was serious. Dear lord.

“No.” The Elsen relaxed, its face still in the same expression. It wasn’t done, however, must to the Batter’s dismay. Just shut up already. “Then who are you? Have you been sent by the Queen? Or by Dedan?” It took every ounce of will the Batter possessed to not react. _The Queen…_ No. Not the time. This Dedan though… He knew that name. From where, though?

“No.” No, the Batter worked for no creature of impurity. He was an agent of cleansing and would never follow orders from a tainted thing again.

“But… But… But…” Yes, _But_. We get it; you point? “You still know how to fight the spectres?” Still waiting. “You… You could destroy them?” Was such an action really a rarity here? How _pathetic._

“Yes.” The Batter’s voice held none of the contempt he felt. He was worthless, but Elsen were _nothing_. They could not fight to defend themselves, let alone another. They were everything he had been sent to fix. And he would do so.

“Oh. That… That would be great…” Wait, what? What would be great? The Batter did not like where this was going. It felt disturbingly similar to that first conversation with the Elsen about the mines. “We… We have… uh… spectres in our big barns.”

The Batter tilted his head slightly. “Barns?” Was this not a mine? Why were there barns?

“Ah… uh… yes… uhm… You’re at the metal farmsteads of Pentel, the eastern part of zone 1.” This _sounded_ disturbingly familiar… The Player shifted slightly in the Batter’s arms and stretched up to whisper in his ear. Her breath brushed against him, sending shivers through him.

“I think I know where this is going.” No. She couldn’t mean… The Batter’s head whipped back to face the Elsen, who stood there vacantly. No.

“Our work consists of cutting livestock in two and extracting the metallic boulders that were contained in the cadavers.” He did not care. “All the poor quality metal is discarded, forming the ground we walk on.” Oh, really? “The rest gets purified to make tool and other objects with.” They were purified, hm? The irony. “Some of it is also put in to crates and sent to the other zones, so they have tool and soil as well, I suppose.”

The Batter looked at it. You suppose? The giggling from his Player was ignored by him and the Elsen, as it soldiered on. As it continued its monologue—“As the first of four elements… It’s an important element.”—the Batter came to a horrifying realization. He was going to have to get a history lesson every place he went, wasn’t he? Fucking Elsen.

“Because without metal, people would have nothing to walk on. They would sink and drown.” It was still talking. “There… And thus we have spectres in the large barns…” Silence from the Batter and the Player, before she spoke what they were both thinking.

“How did that explain why there were spectres in the barn?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are close to the entrance of my favorite OFF character, so get hype.
> 
> Also, I want to thank everyone for their kudos! I really wasn't expecting much response, so seeing that you all like this is really heartening. Thank you for your support.


	8. zone 1-7: RESTATE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italicized Sentence: The Batter thinking to himself/Text from the Visor  
> Italicized Word: Emphasis  
> Italics Underlined: Mental Breakdown  
> Bolded Words: Heavy emphasis  
> Bolded Words behind “::” : Game Text
> 
> WARNING: Rated M for Dedan. Oh, and murder. That too. Reader discretion is advised.
> 
> DISCLAIMER: I do not own OFF, or the affiliated characters. I only own the vague Player character.

The Batter stared at the Elsen blankly, shifting his Player in his arms carefully. “I must purify the mines first.” The Elsen stared blankly back at the Batter, inky black eyes swimming with a hopefully glint.

“Ah… Yes, but the barns aren’t that big… and uh… It would be nice of you to take care of them fast, because the Queen’s inspector is going to arrive at any moment…” The faint tremble in the Elsen’s voice caught the Batter’s attention, his eyes narrowing in on the now fidgeting being. He subtly sniffed the air, gently setting his Player down on the ground as he inspected the Elsen. Fear. It poured off the Elsen in its acrid tang, stronger than the normal nervousness an Elsen carried with them. This could no longer be called fear, the Batter realized, but true terror. What was it about this inspector that the Elsen found more terrifying than him? “So… Could you please take care of the barns first?”

“…” The Batter looked down at his Player, who placidly looked back at him. While being soaked in the rain. Barns it was then. “Alright.” He would have had to do the barns anyway.

The Elsen perked up—as much as an Elsen could, being that they were perpetually gloomy—and stumbled back toward the barns. “Ah! Ah! Great! Thanks, thanks a lot! The barns are directly to the right. They aren’t big at all; you’ll see, its going to be done quickly.” The Player smiled at the Elsen, before grabbing the Batter’s hand and dragging him to the right. His skin no longer rippled as violently as it once had at her touch, so used to it he had become. He still stared though, enraptured by the sight of her soft hand holding his rough one, of the purity of her skin brushing again his soiled one.

It was hard to imagine what she thought of him. His Player seemed to be far from judging, but how could she not judge him? She had to know what he had done, would do again to others; it stained his skin and soul. Her eyes felt like they could see everything he was, so how could she look at him like that?

“Look out!” The Batter snapped to attention, dragging his Player back against him as a huge metal ball rolled through where she had been. His eyes glowed with rage; that could have killed her. That almost killed her.

An Elsen shuffled over, huffing its wheezing breath out in gasps. “Sorry, about, that. You alright?” The Player leaned a smidgeon into the Batter’s grasp, cheeks pink behind the bandana. He tightened his arms around her, relishing the feeling and the fact that his Player would seek comfort from him following a harrowing event. He was honored by her trust.

His attention turned to his Player as she spoke, her voice still a tad hoarse from the smoke. “Yeah we’re—” There was a ‘we’ in her eyes; the Batter felt warmth where his heart should have been. “—alright. What was that?” A very good question, the Batter thought, as he turned his red hazed eyes to the Elsen. What excuse did it have for living, after such a folly? It was not fit to brush the round that his Player walked, let alone _live_ after such a mistake.

He would remedy that shortly.

“These balls are clusters of worked metal, which are going to be sent to other zones. It’s uh… metallic.” The Elsen trailed off, embarrassed and moved to push the metal ball back to the pile from which it had come. His Player moved from his arms, heading to the yellow box that floated a bit away. The Batter did not move, his eyes locked on the Elsen with determinate glee. Could he do it? She was right there, and if she saw… well, he _could fix that_ but he would prefer not to taint her as much as he could. So it had to look like an accident; no meals here, just murder.

He eyed the pile of metal balls, precariously piled atop on another in a hazardous fashion. No one would question its death. Shoving his shoulder into the pile, the Batter destabilized the pile and made his way over to his Player, who was finishing up whatever she had been doing with the box. He ushered her into the barns, not stopping at the horrendous crashing and screams echoing out from the yard. His Player looked at him wide eyed as he moved to prevent her from seeing.

“I do not want you to see it,” he rumbled out as they stood in the main room of the barn. His Player’s shocked eyes faded into soft amusement, and she chuckled at him. It was a glorious sound, ringing in his ears like a siren’s call. He relished in its essence, feeling it wrap around him like the lightest of silks.

She turned from him and motioned for him to follow, dropping the subject. “Come on; there are five spectres in this barn.” The Batter did not question how she knew this, just accepted it. After all, why would a being as pure as she be blind to the existence of the impure? He glanced out the door of the barn and grinned at the sight, before moving on. There was just something so satisfying about seeing an Elsen squished like a rotten grape, upper body still flailing out in a futile attempt to save itself.

So very satisfying.

* * *

It took a good hour or so for them to clear the barns of spectres, the Batter keeping a close eye on his Player. He knew unlike himself she required sleep, and it had been almost twelve hours since he had first met her. That gave him pause, as they strode back to the front of the barns. Had it only been less than a day? It felt like he had known her for an eternity.

**_R A G E_ **

The Batter grasped his Player, yanking her back from the entryway to the barns, ignoring her yelp. He would apologize later; for now, he was more concerned with the intense, rolling sensation of hatred and rage washing over him from outside. Feeling the tension in his arms, the Player settled down quietly, eyes watching him for a hint. So smart, his Player, so understanding of the situation. Moving himself between her and the door, he peered through the entryway, the Player peeking from around him. He let her; better she see the threat and know than be unaware.

A tall figure strode into view, followed by a stumbling Elsen. His long military coat billowed behind him as he swiftly moved toward the barns, revealing his lack of shirt and his defined torso. Standard military slacks were fitted to his impossibly long legs, followed by large black combat boots. However, it was his face that the Batter stumbled at. Huge fanged teeth dominated his face, no nose or other features visible. Black markings went from the sides of the oversized mouth to surround the glowing white eyes of the man. Or was it a man? It looked as monstrous as the Batter did.

A light gasp drew the Batter’s attention to the now bright red face of his Player, whose eyes were solidly fixed on the figure. “So… _cool._ ” Excuse me? The Batter swung his head back to the figure, eyes narrowed as something slithered inside his chest. Unacceptable. His Player was far too pure to be allowed to associate with that… _thing_ and he would not allow otherwise. She was _His Player_ , not that thing’s and she belonged to _him_. He moved so she couldn’t see out the door, noticing her lack of protest. _Was her mind occupied by that man?_ The thought caused the slithering thing in his chest to squirm uncomfortably. He did not like it.

“I… I… I… I am… really…” The Elsen’s stuttering apology was cut off by the deep, screeching roar that erupted from the man. The glowing white eyes of the man fixed on the small, trembling figure in derision, as he towered over it. The rage from before swarmed the area, suffocating the Elsen.

“Shut your trap, you poor moron.” He looked away from the Elsen dismissively, surveying the barns and fields with barely concealed boredom. His eyes skated passed where the Batter hid, but lingered for a moment nearby him, eyes narrowing slightly. The Batter traced his gaze to the wall next to him—the wall where his Player sat in thought. A sharp shiver ran down his spine, as he snapped his head to look at the man. Could he sense her purity as well? Was he tainted as he, that his skin crawled in the presence of a being worth more than he ever could?

“No… I… Yes…” The Elsen looked down, voice quiet as it tried not to antagonize the being before him. Trembles shook the pitiable creature’s body as the man looked down at it again, attention drawn away from the barns.

“Have they been in there long?”

“I… I don’t know…” The Elsen didn’t dare look toward the man as he chuckled, sneering at the shivering creature.

The man shook his head slowly, condescendingly. “Of course. You know nothing. I could have guessed.” The Batter held back a smirk; for all that this man set him off, at least he could see how foolish the Elsen were.

“They… He will eliminate… The spectres…” The Elsen tried to pipe up, falling silent at the harsh look the man sent his way.

“And why do they think he’s capable of destroying those stupid phantoms? He thinks he’s better than you! Better than the Queen!” The Batter froze, skin rippling. _The Queen…_ No, he couldn’t think of her. Not now, not when he was finally on his path to succeeding. Not when a possible threat was waiting just outside the door.

“No.. No, I don’t think that…”

“Shut it. I haven’t asked you anything.” The man’s voice was exasperated. “You all think you’re smarter than everyone else. But you’re all the same.” He turned to face the barn again, eyes latching onto the spot where the Player sat, blind to the Batter. “At any case that’s hardly important. The ghosts will erase that prig.” The man paused, before adding in a quieter tone, “and the woman.”

“I… Ah? You… You think he won’t succeed?” The man cut his eyes over to the Elsen, before focusing back on the barn.

“Of course not. Nobody here’s capable of fighting the phantoms, other than the Queen’s officers.” He reached in his pocket and pulled out a cigar, and lit it up with a match, giving a puff. “If you’d only listen to me more often, you wouldn’t be in so much shit.” He waved the match out before tossing it on the ground, eyes still affixed to where the Player sat. She shivered on the other side of the wall, sensing something. The Batter tensed his muscles, ready for this man to make his move.

“But… But then who… Who’s going to destroy the phantoms?”

“I could’ve done it. But you don’t deserve it. Too bad for you, you’ll just have to take care of your problems yourselves.” He flicked ash off the end of his cigar, grinning cruelly down at the horrified Elsen. He took another deep puff, smoke billowing out from his mouth in mesmerizing wisps.

“I… I… No… P-… Please…”

“I’ll be leaving now.” He dropped the cigar on the ground. “I’ll be returning to Alma. At least the people there are polite. They ain’t constantly cutting you off.” He glanced back at the barn, eyes still on where the Player sat.

“Pl-…Please… Don’t…” He sighed, striding passed the Elsen.

“Goodbye. Piss off.” The Elsen moved in front of the man, holding its arms out to try and stop him.

“Don’t… No… I…”

“I command you. Get the fuck out of my way this instant, if you want to keep your job.” The Elsen hesitated, before lowering its arms and head, shuffling to the side. The man strode off, only pausing once to glance back toward the barn. What a delicious sensation. If he was in the habit of indulging himself, he would have gone inside to find it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dedan is my favorite character, hands down. Always super excited to be writing him!
> 
> Now, to prevent any comments on how contrary to his previous statements regarding her being naïve due to her innocence, I'm clearing this up here. It is called Willful Blindness, and his views change to fit his model of how perfect he believes her to be. People who are experiencing some form of obsession, be it traditional, hero-worship, idolism, etc., will often have fluid views of the actions of their target. This allows them to constantly have the "best version" of that person in their eyes. It's odd, and I can't claim to understand it fully, but I will use that to my advantage in this story.
> 
> Oh, and while this is an older piece, I wanted to shout out to Destille on DeviantArt! They made this cover for Corrupted Save on FF, but AO3 doesn't appear to have a cover function, so I wanted to make sure they got recognized for their kindness.
> 
> And I wanted to thank everyone here! In a little under a week, we had over 100+ hits to this story. Thank you all for your support!.


	9. zone 1-8: REACTION

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italicized Sentence: The Batter thinking to himself/Text from the Visor  
> Italicized Word: Emphasis  
> Italics Underlined: Mental Breakdown  
> Bolded Words: Heavy emphasis  
> Bolded Words behind “::” : Game Text
> 
> WARNING: Rated M for graphic murder and violence. Reader discretion is advised.  
> DISCLAIMER: I do not own OFF, or the affiliated characters. I only own the vague Player character.

The Batter stepped out of the barn, looking after the man with darkened eyes. The man gave him a bad feeling, something twinging in the back of his mind like an alarm. It made him uneasy. Leaning back through the barn door, he stared at his Player, who still sat against the wall in deep thought. Her face was scrunched into an expression of bemusement, and she had curled in on herself a bit. She looked even smaller than she normally did.

“Come on.” The Batter’s voice seemed to shake her out of her thoughts, and she stood to follow him out of the barn. Stepping back out into the rain drew her further from her thoughts, much to the Batter’s relief. The painful confusion on her face had no place there, he decided. He did not like it.

He drew up behind the Elsen, who was still facing the ground. Silent—or possibly not, as it was hard to tell with the constant wheezing—sobs shook its shoulders. The Player untied her bandana from around her mouth and offered it to the pitiable being. It drew in a shocked gasp, eyes darting up to lock with her gentle ones. “You… You’re alive?” It hesitated for a moment, before taking the offered bandana and drying its tears.

The Batter ignored the Elsen’s question—as it was rather redundant—and posed one of his own, eyes fixed on the distance. “Who was that man?” The Elsen glanced back at the barns, a painful hope swimming in its dull eyes, before questioning the Player. The Batter bristled; it did not deserve to speak to her.

“And… And the Spectres?” The Player gave a soft smile to the still hiccupping Elsen, patting its should comfortingly. The Batter slid between the two slowly, eyes o the Elsen; it was not worthy of her attentions, or her touch. Besides, he needed information about that man.

“Eradicated. The barn is pure now.” The Elsen’s eyes grew wide, clearly not expecting a successful venture. The Batter held back from giving a sneer; this pathetic creature had no grounds to doubt his prowess, or the masterful directions of his Player. The insolence was _disgusting._

“You must be very lucky.” And the insults continued. What a foolish creature. The Batter drew himself up, and let his skin slip ever so slightly, opening all of his eyes. The four glowing, red eyes stared down at the unlucky Elsen, illuminating its face lightly with the light. His Player could not see, standing behind the Batter as she was. She could see the paling of the grey-skinned creature, as it was rather hard to miss.

“Who was that person?” The Elsen trembled, black eyes reflecting back the red of the Batter’s own. The Player leaned forward around the Batter, unusually interested in the answer. The Batter closed his eyes, displeased in her interest toward the threat— _cool, why was that man cool?_ —but relaxed as he figured out the reason. She was interested in learning about the zone, the area they would be purifying. This man was a higher up in the chain here; it would only make sense for her to have an interest in him. It was logical nothing more, nothing less.

“That… That was Dedan.” The Player tensed and took a step back. The Batter swung his head to face her, forgetting about his eyes in his panic. He need not have worried though; the Player was far too deep within her own thoughts again to notice. He moved to touch her, but she stepped away, going to sit down next to the yellow box. The Batter watched her with tight eyes; that was the man’s real name. The real name of a creature so steeped in filth and darkness as _Dedan_ or himself… it carried a weight when said. It was unsurprising that a being of such purity like his Player could feel it. It was surprising that she reacted in that manner though. Was she so sensitive to its strength? If so, he would have to be even more careful. _Cannot let her know, never know._ If she could feel the taint on a name, she might be able to feel the scum on his soul after a meal, after he had his fun.

If this was true, then… No, he would deal with that when it came. It might never come, after all; his Player was pure, she would see reason. He strode after her, crouching down next to his Player, who was slowly growing wetter in the thickening rain. “Are you alright?” His eyes searched her expression as she faced him, watching for any signs of deceit. She had hidden her condition before out of good intentions, but he would not allow that again.

“Yeah… I’m okay. I guess I’m a bit tired.” No lies, though she did seem to be considering something. The Batter picked her up and carried her into the barn.

“Rest in here,” he intoned, putting her down on a pile of hay. “I’ll be right back.” He moved from the barn back to the Elsen, feeling her stay where he had put her. Such a pure being, his Player, trusting him to come back for her, that even when he was not there that he would keep her safe. He had to keep her safe, for the mission for the ideal that he had dedicated his life to. A being of such purity, she embodied everything he stood for.

A horrifying thought occurred to the Batter, stopping him before he reached the Elsen. What if she felt his strength, and was considering his viability? He was powerful and just as corrupted, but what if she was considering Dedan over him? He certainly had the strength to defend her on the mission, and the Player was willing to overlook the Batter’s impurity for the sake of the mission. What was to say that she would not do the same for Dedan’s? _Unacceptable._ He would prove himself to be a better candidate and would continue the mission with her. He would, not _Dedan._ Nonetheless, he needed more information on his… _rival._

The Batter finally reached the Elsen, who looked vaguely concerned for the Player. Upon regaining the Batter’s attention, it continued.

“…He’s the Queen’s supervisor.” The Batter looked passed where the Elsen stood, to where this Dedan had disappeared. That explained much about his aura, the weight of his presence, the rage pouring off his body. Perhaps Dedan had once been a man, or a monster like himself, but now…

“You mean spectre.” The Elsen looked at the Batter, face blank.

“…No…” It shook itself slightly, gaining more of a certain tone. “The Queen doesn’t employ spectres. He can’t be one.” The Batter glanced down at the creature, dismissive.

“But he is hostile. I must destroy him.” A snap in his chest solidified that thought. It was beyond duty; something dragged at his very being to complete that task. _As if it was more important than he knew._

“No… No… Don’t do that. He’s an envoy of the Queen.” Dark eyes settle on the disturbed Elsen. Such a foolish creature, to stand in his way, the way of his divine mission. He would not stand for such a folly, not from such pathetic creatures. “I… I… Uh… You had better go complete your work in the smoke mines… Please…” The Batter was silent as he inspected the grey flesh of the wheezing creature. How easily it would split…how satisfying it would taste. _But would she feel it?_

“Besides, he is in Alma. No one can get there without proper authorization. So… Please… Return to the smoke mines…” The Batter gave a grin, making his decision. After all, **_shetasted SO good. If she did know, she would soonforget his shame._**

“Alright.” The Elsen relaxed. It was unprepared for the Batter smashing his bat into its head, knocking it away from the barn. The tiny yelp the Elsen gave as it rolled across the metal ground was unheeded by the Batter, whose skin had split and torn. His claws tore into the unprotected flesh of the Elsen like wet paper, spilling its blood onto the ground. The Batter’s tail whipped back and forth as his snout dug into the squishy insides of the Elsen, tearing its innards out in delicious strips with wet _rips._ It was gasping and crying as it tried futilely to get away, fingers weakly grappling at the Batter’s shirt. **_sogood._** The Batter raised his head, licking his snout clean as he allowed a horrible grin to stretch across his muzzle, eyes tracking the weakening movements of the mutilated Elsen. It was trying to hold its intestines in **_what was left_** , without much success. _So pitiful, these Elsen are._

The Batter took one clawed hand and caressed the Elsen’s bald head—before sinking his claws in and **_ripping._** It took far too little effort to tear the head from its body, the Batter thought, as he swallowed the head whole. _He wouldn’t need to feed for a bit after this. He would run less of a risk of discovery. Didn’t mean he was not going to feed again soon anyways. _In less than an a minute al that was left of the unfortunate Elsen was its tattered clothing, a few bones, and a puddle of blood. The bandana lay next to the puddle, untouched by the carnage. The Batter slipped himself back into his disguise, and kicked the remains of his meal into the ocean carelessly, the rain already rinsing him and the ground of the evidence of his crime. He gathered the bandana and shoved it into his pocket.

The Batter stood there in the rain for a moment longer, savoring the feel of a full belly. He ran his tongue along his teeth, checking for scraps that might have gotten caught, as the rain splattered on his face. How twisted he was, he mused, how impure a monster he was. _But he was seeking redemption for his ongoing sins._ Yes, he was. He tilted his head to the side, red eyes peering into the open doors of the barn. The thickened staining on his soul prevented him from sensing her from his distance, but he knew she would have listened.

Striding into the barn, he towered over the balled up form of his Player, fast asleep in the hay. So sweet, so pure, so innocent. Oh, she had claimed otherwise, but the Batter knew the truth. Throwing his tattered morality to the side, he lifted her into his arms and cradled her as he sat in the hay. It was so very wrong for a tainted, corrupted being such as he to dare to caress her skin, to look upon her as she lay vulnerable. It felt so right though, he pondered, as he twirled a strand of her hair around his human hand.

_ Yes, she will be our redemption. She will always be our redemption. _

* * *

After his Player had awoken, they had explored the metal farms a bit more. The Batter was examining half a cow—how odd—when his Player returned from looking at the station stop PENTEL.

“Hey,” she said, getting his attention. No panic, no hint of fear; she was alright. “The Elsen down by the station said that the names of the metro’s stops correspond to the names of important people of the past here.” Her face was alight with joy, clearly fascinated with the past of the zone.

“That is interesting,” he finally replied. It wasn’t really, but seeing her beam up at him soothed the wrongness of lying to her. After a little bit, the farms had been fully explored and it was back down into the mines. The Batter tied the bandana around her nose and mouth securely, noticing the red on her cheeks again. The smoke must already be affecting her, he would have to be careful.

The trip through the mines was painfully slow, with spectres impeding their progress at every turn. His Player did find some useful objects as they progressed; some Belial’s meat, a piece of Abbadon’s meat, and a curious object called the Virgo-orb. After examining it, his Player had handed it to him, saying it would increase his speed in combat. He had had his doubts, but did not question her, putting the orb in his pocket. She was, of course, right, though the logic of how a small orb in his pocket made him faster baffled him.

After a seeming eternity, his Player darted forward before the Batter could stop her. “I see a save point!” Running after her—she was far too trusting! What if something had been in the room?—the Batter slid to a stop behind her as she examined the yellow box. There was something in the room, or rather, a someone. A rather… _odd_ someone.

The masked man watched them both, eyes unreadable as they appraised the pair. Studying the mask, the Batter finally decided it was a rather artistically designed smiling face—maybe, perhaps, oh for the love of—and moved his attention down the figure. A baggy sweater with a heart poorly sewn on it, and a pair of black slacks adorned the figure, much to the bemusement of the Batter. The absolute hell was this guy supposed to be?

The Batter had hoped to avoid talking to this… _interesting_ individual, but alas, it was not to be. As soon as his Player caught sight of the eclectic man, she had made her way over and struck up a conversation.

“Hello! I love your sweater!” So pure his Player was, that she lacked the sin of vanity. As such, apparently she also lacked fashion sense. He stoutly ignored the fact that his being dressed as a baseball player was a bit beyond the pale. The man’s eyes softened from their flinty gaze as he looked down at the Player.

“Thank you, I made it myself.” We could tell. The man cocked a hip out, resting a hand against it. “My my, the characters are starting to pile up, aren’t they?” His Player laughed at the apparent…joke, though the Batter was a tad confused.

“Pardon?” The man looked up from the Player, eyes darkening with an unreadable emotion as they took the Batter in. The Batter tilted his head, considering the man. He felt oddly familiar, not in the way that Dedan had, but still familiar. Which was rather odd, now that he thought about it, as he never encountered either man before. The man rolled his eyes behind his mask, huffing exasperatedly.

“What I’m saying—” That tone had a bit too much sass for the Batter’s liking. “—is that the average player—not that you’re average in any way, my dear—doesn’t need all these complicated and tedious dialogues.” The man gave a polite bow to the Player, making her giggle. The Batter had never felt so confused; did he hate the man for mocking him and _flirting_ , if that was what the man was doing, with his Player, or did he respect the man for displaying proper reverence to his Player and amusing her?

“There should be more action and fewer questions,” the man continued, waving his hand emphatically, and the Player nodded. Well, at least she understood what this maniac was on about.

“Who are you?” He might as well obtain the name of the man who he had the sneaking suspicion he would be encountering on an annoyingly frequent basis. Know thy annoyance, and all that.

“I—” the man stated with far too much relish, placing a hand against his chest. “—am Zacharie, the traditional items merchant that’s necessary in every video game.” The Player was practically beaming at the man…no, Zacharie, as he said this.

“Oh, thank goodness! I was a bit worried when we didn’t encounter you earlier,” his Player said, looking quite pleased at the man’s presence. From her reaction, the Batter gleaned that she thought Zacharie would be important for their mission, and while he could see the usefulness of a merchant, it did not explain the second part of that statement.

“I apologize for my tardy appearance, my dear. Traditional grinding mechanics and wealth gathering prevented me from coming sooner.” The Player nodded in understanding, while the Batter grew even more confused. This conversation was on a whole different level. Perhaps this Zacharie was like his Player? He certainly felt purer than most creatures he had encountered, about the same as the Judge, but nowhere near the level his Player was at. “I’ll always find myself in places you’re going to visit before you arrive from now on.” The Player gave a soft smile of thanks, as Zacharie waved his hand in the air. Were those…sparkles?

“But enough blether, I’m not one of those protagonists you need to listen to for hours.” He rubbed his hands together, and the Batter got the distinct feeling that he was grinning. “So, lemme see the color of your credits.” Credits? The Batter had no idea what those were, but his Player nodded.

“Right down to business, then. I like it.” She pulled a small card from her pocket, the slip of metal and plastic glinting dully in the dim light. She tapped it against a small screen Zacharie had pulled out, a number appearing. “What do you have then?” As the pair haggled over prices, the Batter stared at them in bewilderment. _What on earth had just happened?_

“Alright so that’s one Nicolas Tunic, eleven Aura’s of Justice, and one Radius Epidermis,” the Batter was almost certain that those were not words. “That’ll be 1,530 credits.” The Player nodded, and the number on screen decreased as Zacharie shook his head in mock dismay. The Batter could tell he was secretly pleased, though for what reason he knew not. “You drive a hard bargain, Miss Player.” She laughed as he handed her the items.

“Oh, don’t act like I cheated you out of much! We both enjoy a good bargaining too much to swindle the other.” The merchant rubbed the back of his head, laughing in agreement as the Player turned and gave the Batter the tunic. The other item fused in the Add-on around his wrist, and she stowed the Auras.

“Put it on, it will increase your defense by four points.” Taking the tunic, which looked the same as his current one—she had been right about the orb, so he’ll trust her about the shirt too—he reached down and yanked his shirt off. “Oh.” His Player’s voice was quiet, and the Batter glanced at her. Her face was bright red, eyes fixed on his torso. How innocent, the Batter almost felt like cooing at his adorable little Player. So flustered by his chest… The Batter puffed up slightly. That meant she found him attractive, didn’t she? She honored him with her attentions in such a manner. _She reacted that way to Dedan as well,_ a little voice in the back of his head murmured, deflating him a bit. _Doesn’t matter really, you’ll show her you are a better choice._ The Batter tossed his old shirt to the side carelessly. Yes, he thought, watching her follow his movements with her eyes. _I will show her I am the better choice for a protector than that cur Dedan._

“Well,” Zacharie’s voice—which sounded far too interested—reminded the pair of his presence, and the Batter pulled on his shirt. His Player turned away from him, coughing into her hand lightly as she went over to the yellow box again. The Batter observed her, concluding that the smoke was starting to get to her, as she had removed her bandana to speak with the merchant.

“We will be going now,” the Batter intoned, hustling his Player toward the door.

“I’ll be seeing you.” Zacharie waved to them as they left the room, winking and blowing a kiss. The Batter did not even try to understand. The next room held and elevator, a desk, and an Elsen. An Elsen that was as confused to see them as they were to see it.

“…? What… How… Where did you come from?” It craned its neck to peer around them at the doorway. The Batter was just as confused; they had just been in the mines.

This was not the mines.

“…From the smoke mines.” Apparently.

“But… How… What? But… but that’s impossible…” Yes, it was, because they had just gone from a mine shaft to the lobby of an office building. “Not a single lamp works there, you… you can’t have…” Wait, _that_ as what made it impossible? The Player sighed.

“Faith guides my steps.” Well, that and a very competent puppeteer. The Batter was very lucky she seemed to know where she was going.

“F-…Faith?” The baffled Elsen seemed to have no idea how to respond. The Batter sighed as well, as his Player eyed him in amusement. Glad she found entertainment in how agonizing this was.

“My mission is to purify the mines. But it seems that the phantoms here are particularly numerous.”

“The… the spectres…” Yes, the spectres. Those things making your pitiful existence even worse? Yeah, those.

“Where are we?” His Player finally spoke up, peering around the room in confusion.

“Uh… uh…” Not a hard question, come on now. Oh, wait. No wait do not start with the—“Hhh… You’re at the plastic administrations of Shachihata, the northern part of zone 1. Our work consists of filling in forms. Afterwards, we wrap them up with string and send them to the courier service.” Sounds like a fascinating existence. Honestly, he was doing these creatures a favor by killing them humanely. “There, they ship packages, and in return we receive parcels full of plastic. There is a lot of liquid plastic that forms lakes and oceans. There is also solid plastic, used to make various objects.”

“Wait,” the Player whispered to the Batter, “the lakes and oceans are made of plastic?” At his nod she drooped. “Shoot, that could be a problem if I begin to get thirsty…” He gazed at her, concerned. Could she not drink plastic like he? Of course not! He could have smacked himself. She was a pure being, just like she could not breathe smoke, she could not drink plastic. But what did she need to drink? He would need to find out and get some for her; he had to ensure she was healthy after all.

A _worthy_ and _preferable_ protector takes care of their charge.

“—As the first of four elements… It’s an important element. Because without plastic, the world would have no boundaries. People would walk and walk without ever stopping. But… but… You hunt spectres? Really?” The Batter dragged himself out of his thoughts, turning to the stuttering Elsen.

“Yes.” We covered this already. “I’m purifying this zone.” Covered that too, but what the hell. Elsen were stupid, better cover his bases.

“The… The spectres, I know where they come from…” That had not been covered. The Elsen now had both the Batter and the Player’s attention now. “They all come from the postal service.” And now they were getting somewhere.

“The postal service?” The Player prodded, hoping for more information.

“That’s where we send out the packaged forms.” And back to redundant conversation. Guess it was too much to ask for the Elsen to be moderately intelligent.

“Where is it?” His Player tried again, hands wound together tightly.

“I can’t tell you.” They looked at the embarrassed Elsen with disbelief.

“Why?” His Player was confused. So was the Batter. The Elsen wheezed in embarrassment again, before looking away.

“The problem is that… uh…” They both waited as the Elsen paused. “…nobody can remember which floor it’s found on.” Silence. Dead silence as they took that in.

Finally his Player tossed her hands in the air and screamed. “How do you forget that!?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, a bit of a longer chapter, because the mines make me so sad with all the backtracking. Also, I wanted Zacharie in here. Love that merchant. We also covered a bit more about the Player, and I need to drop some info here about the Player. By this point, you are probably wondering why we haven't seen a description of the Player. That is because the Player is supposed to be vague, so that you as the reader can imagine her how you want her (or if you so please, imagine her like you). There are only a few things that are confirmed about the Player: she is shorter than the Batter, she is taller than the Elsen, and her hair is longer than her shoulders. That's it. Everything else is purposefully left vague. 
> 
> Thank you, everyone, for your continued support! It makes me happy to know my writing is helping someone pass their time.


	10. zone 1-9: RESEARCH

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italicized Sentence: The Batter thinking to himself/Text from the Visor  
> Italicized Word: Emphasis  
> Italics Underlined: Mental Breakdown  
> Bolded Words: Heavy emphasis  
> Bolded Words behind “::” : Game Text
> 
> WARNING: Rated T for swearing. Oddly, nothing else. Unless you count Batter’s general creeper-ness.  
> DISCLAIMER: I do not own OFF, or the affiliated characters. I only own the vague Player character.

The Elsen looked away, coughing evasively. His Player appeared to give up and moved toward the elevator.

“Looks like we’ll have to find it on our own then,” she huffed, ignoring the amused look the Batter tossed her way. He had never seen her so exasperated before, but he supposed even saints had their breaking point. Trust an Elsen to reach it. Stepping into the tiny elevator, the Batter was forced to hunch over his Player to fit. Definitely designed for Elsen, minuscule things that they were. His Player had little difficulty with the tiny box, fitting snugly beneath his hunched form. The Batter could feel the warmth and purity pulsing off her skin, matching her heartbeat. It felt so sweet, searing across his skin; he may have become accustomed to the feeling, but that did not mean he could not feel it still.

Turning his attention away from the searing pleasure rippling across his skin, he looked at the floor selection. “Oh,” his Player said, looking at the options. Instead of the normal buttons one would find in an elevator, there was a keypad and a small plaque.

_Basement—00000_

_Ground floor—00001_

_Roof—99999_

_Postal service—?_

The elevator was silent for a moment, the Batter shifting uncomfortably. He stared, baffled, at the little plaque. “…Why did they not just write it down?” He finally asked, looking down at his pure Player. She had no answer, just shrugging dejectedly and entering in for the Ground floor. The elevator started rising at an agonizingly slow pace. The Batter took a deep breath, his chest brushing the back of his Player’s head. He moved back as far as he could, trying not to violate her space. He did not wish to make her uncomfortable with him.

After what seemed an eternity pressed to the back of the elevator, the Batter was relieved when they finally reached floor 00001. Unfortunately, as they went around trying to glean any information from the Elsen on that floor, it quickly became apparent that the fools would be of no help. They were far too enraptured in their bureaucracy to even notice his Player trying to get their attention, or his own efforts. The Batter quickly wrote that off as a hopeless venture, and peered out the front door before allowing his Player through—after she had run into that room where Zacharie had been waiting, the Batter was taking no more chances. It had only been luck that had dictated that Zacharie was not hostile toward them. It rankled him. He had to do better, he had to protect her for the mission. If he could not prove himself worthy of continuing his holy duty, then… No, he would not allow that to happen. He had a world to cleanse, to purify for the sake of pure beings like his Player. He would not allow another to take his place.

Outside the building was a singular path of metal leading out over an ocean of pink plastic. His Player grimaced, before moving down the path. The Batter nodded, following after her closely; an intelligent decision, looking for clues to the location of the postal service out here, instead of systematically searching every floor. As they walked along the desolate land bridge, the Batter could feel a faint sensation crawling across his shoulders. He glanced up at the building, attempting to pinpoint its origin, with no luck. As it was, it was so faint that he could not even identify the sensation, so it was not an immediate threat. With that dismissed, he turned his attention forward toward the metro station, Shachihata. An Elsen stood near the metro, aimlessly looking around. What, did it have nothing better to do?

“Excuse me,” the Player called to the Elsen. “Can you tell us about that building?” She pointed at the Plastic Administrations building, head tilted ever so slightly. So cute, his Player, so innocent and naïve.

“Um, well… The Queen’s—” Ignore her, she does not matter. “—general has an office here… But his true house is in Alma.” His Player tilted her head further, brow furrowing slightly.

“The General?”

“Dedan,” the Elsen answered simply, blinking blankly at them. The Player shivered at the name, and looked away, considering.

“…and Dedan was joined by Sheba*…” she murmured, much to the Batter’s confusion. Did she know his name from somewhere else? He stiffened sharply, eyes cutting to her small form. Was her reaction to his name more than just the weight of his impurity? This required fixing, if that was the case. If she did indeed know Dedan, then he would be a distraction to her.

That was not allowed.

With no leads as to the location of the postal service obtained, the Batter ushered his Player back into the building. Countless floors of useless Elsen were searched for clues, but none yielded results. However, as they rose floor by floor in the building, the Batter could feel the tingling sensation growing stronger; it was almost strong enough for him to identify it now. His Player sighed as she input the roof, leaning back against his hunched form carelessly. So easily did she touch him, as corrupted and filthy as he was; she was truly kind and benevolent. He did not move his arms to hold her—as if he would dare touch her without a dire need…at least, not to her knowledge—as the elevator crawled up the floors at its excruciatingly slow pace.

The roof was wet when they finally arrived. Apparently during the interval in the elevator, it had resumed raining. Joy. Stepping out and surveying the building, the Batter noticed the roof held an occupant. He subtly tried to usher his Player back into the elevator before she noticed, but it was not to be.

Her face lit up in a smile, as she slipped around his form. “Judge!” The Batter stared after her, then down at where he stood. How had she done that? He had completely boxed her in. A few seconds of consideration and the answer became blatantly obvious. Of course, as a pure and perfect being, she could easily fool his sense and slip by him. She had only not done so before out of respect, being the kind and noble being she was. He was remiss to dare to be in her presence, let alone dare to touch her as he had been. Not that she knew of his most grievous offense, that he had dared to caress her sleeping, vulnerable form. It was a sickening thought, that she had trusted him to care for her as she slept, and that he _dared_ to take advantage in such a situation. It was his only grace that she did not know, and that he dd not have to taint her to make her forget, though his dirtying of her soul never lasted long. Her innate purity washed the stains from her soul swiftly, leaving no trace of his transgression against her, other than the lack of memory.

He was truly scum.

“Zounds! You again?” The Batter tuned into the conversation at the Judge’s distinctly playful remark. “You are decidedly everywhere.” The Judge tilted his head to the side, winking at the Player and purring out, “One could believe that you are following me.” The Player laughed, reaching down and petting the insolent fleabag. Coercing his kind and naïve Player into touching his filthy body! If it were not for the fact that it would upset his Player greatly, he would have done away with the mangy thing already.

“Nonetheless,” the cretin continued, “your steps have not deceived you, for you are here in a lieu that can certainly use sacred blows from your holy bat. Perhaps you are already aware of this, but it appears that the storey housing the postal service is overrun by ectoplasm.” An interesting way of putting it, but the Batter understood what he was getting at. “It would probably be wise to find the storey with the intangible creatures post-haste in order to dispatch them.” Well, was that not just a _revolutionary_ idea? The Judge turned to the Batter, eyes narrowing in smugness.

“But could it be that the task is too difficult for your narrow mind?” That little shit. “In that case, I may be able to provide you with some advice… To save you time waiting for him, of course.” The Judge’s ever present grin grew as he returned to speaking with the Player, who smiled at him. The Batter fumed quietly. _Cannot kill the filth, he is important to the mission and his Player._

“Some help would be welcome,” his Player admitted, rubbing the back of her head sheepishly. Her hair had darkened in the rain noticeably, making the Batter more eager to sweep her inside…and away from that _cat._

“Open widely your ears and listen, for I will not repeat this twice, not even in the midst of the most pathetic supplication.” As if his noble Player would lover herself to beg this creature. “In one of the four rooms on the ground floor, all employees seem to be trained to a particular set of instructions. Additionally, if there was a choice to be made, I would prefer the lower-case over the upper-case.” His Player groaned, shoving her face into her hands.

“Of course! It was so obvious! Ugh, I’m such a fool…” The Batter blinked at her, as she went about her untruthful self-demeaning. There was no possible way that she was a fool, not a being as pure as she. Naïve and easily tricked, perhaps, definitely far too trusting for her own good, but no fool.

Though, he did have to wonder how that was obvious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Referencing Dedan from Ezekiel in the Bible. Dedan was a country referenced in several passages, the most well-known of which Dedan goes from a peaceful land to a warring one, in which it joins hands with the country of Sheba to pillage its neighbors. However, I acknowledge that there are several translations regarding Dedan, one of which that is popular is the Jewish Tanakh, in which Dedan is also referenced as a man born of Abraham and his concubine Keturah. I am referencing the first interpretation, but I do not wish to devalue the second interpretation. 
> 
> To explain the reference a bit further, Dedan (1st interpretation) was a peaceful, wise country that for unknown reasons joins with Sheba—a warlike country—to lay waste to its neighbors and pillage their wealth. In OFF, Dedan is referred to as both an ADVISOR and a GENERAL (both wise and warlike). Now, in game this most likely is depicting Dedan as a military advisor, but I am taking this in a slightly different direction. He still is her military advisor, but the reference refers to something else as well. 
> 
> There, some random learning for you. However, I encourage you to research this more on your own. I do not have the breadth of knowledge to fully explain the historical/religious components of either interpretation.
> 
> Fun Fact: In terms of gameplay, we are officially 1 hour in.


	11. zone 1-10: REVILE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italicized Sentence: The Batter thinking to himself/Text from the Visor
> 
> Italicized Word: Emphasis
> 
> Italics Underlined: Mental Breakdown
> 
> Bolded Words: Heavy emphasis
> 
> Bolded Words behind "::" : Game Text
> 
> WARNING: Rated M because Dedan, swearing, and allusions to some dark stuff. Oh, and some mildly explicit fights, but nothing too nasty. Still, Reader discretion is advised.
> 
> DISCLAIMER: I do not own OFF, or the affiliated characters. I only own the vague Player character.

_Floor 10258_

_Postal service_

The Batter had never heard more welcome words in his life. As the doors of the elevator slid open slowly—so very slowly, the Batter lamented—, a sigh of pure relief came from his Player.

“Thank _GOD._ I was beginning to fear that we were trapped in purgatory.” The Batter flinched slightly, unnoticeable to his Player. _You have no idea how ironic that is._ Purgatory was the existence of the world itself, steeped in shame and sin. No, rather, his job was purgatory; the world was hell, its sticky tendrils of filth trying to latch on to the pure and drag them down into the muddy depths. Sickening, the depravities this world would sink to in an effort to taint another.

The duo stepped out of the elevator and looked around. “…No one?” The Batter finally asked, his bat lowering from its ready position. He had not expected that, and from the look on his Player’s face, she had not either.

“That is rarely a good sign,” she answered after a long pause, moving behind the Batter slightly. If the lack of life had not been so unnerving to him, the Batter would have basked in her trust in him. As it was, he had a bad feeling about this floor; the itching had grown stronger again, but was still just out of his reach. It was beginning to irritate him fiercely.

Wandering around the floor yielded no insights as to where everyone was. It was just silent, the faint groaning of machinery that was present in the building echoing in the stillness. Piles and piles of boxes lay scattered around the floor, as if in the process of being moved. The Player dragged her hand across the top of one, coming away dusty.

“Where did they all go?” She dusted off her hand as the Batted moved passed her toward the stairs. He could feel something. Off the steps stepped a blank eyed Elsen, which stared at them with empty eyes. The Player stepped back; something about it was off.

“I am the Batter. Where are the phantoms?” The Elsen gave no answer, and the Batter raised his bat, moving more centrally in front of his Player. He had a vague feeling that this was not an Elsen… Not anymore.

“…I’m… I’m very afraid…” The words were hissed out with its breath, like a deflating balloon. That sounded familiar. “…Help me.” The Elsen shot forward, and its skin ripped. Its head fell to the side like a discarded toy, rolling away as black tendrils shot from the neck of its suit. Soot and ink splashed onto the floor and the previously white shirt the former Elsen wore was swiftly dyed black.

The Batter did not wait for the battle commencement and swung his bat at the lunging creature. Its torso made a sickening squish as it molded around his bat, droplets of soot splattering the Batter’s form. It hit the ground with a dull thump, before melting into the floor, leaving only a badly stained shirt and tie. The Player gagged, looking away from the remains of the creature; the Batter stepped between her and the sight. She should not look upon the filth of this creature.

“Hhhh…” A hissing groan from the boxes had him raising his bat again. He stepped around the boxes, ready to destroy the possible threat. Laying there behind the box stacks was the Elsen’s head, breathing ad looking around. It did not appear to notice its lack of body. “Maybe… Maybe his suit has taken control of his… his brain.” After that odd statement, the head went still before melting into the floor like its body had.

The Batter stared at the spot it had lain contemplatively. “Strange…” Turning back to his clearly disturbed Player, the Batter felt a twinge of guilt. His actions with that creature had usurped her power over him; he had gone over her head in his decisions. He had no right to do that. He, a lowly monster with a blackened soul, had no right to do that.

“Ugh…” His Player groaned, avoiding looking at the clothes. “Well, that was disgusting. Good thing you moved as fast as you did there. I certainly wasn’t going to react in time.” She looked at him, smiling faintly. “Good to know that you can fight without me, if worst comes to worst.” Her gaze turned contemplative, as she turned her attention toward the stairs behind the Batter.

“What do you suppose is up there that could have done that?” The Batter carefully looked away from her, eyes fixing on the stairs. She was unknowing of the true reason for the mission, that the Elsen and everything else had become infected with filth and scum. She had no way of knowing that over time, it corrupted the creatures and people, turning them from sentient—however loosely he may use that term—beings into spectres, monsters and ghouls.

He did not answer her in the end, instead moving up the stairs. The upper level of the storey was just as deserted at first glance, so the Batter moved off the stairs to let his Player pass. She quickly honed in on a form sitting atop a nearby work table. Picking it up, she examined it. It lacked any of the dust found surrounding it, suspiciously clean.

“Something strange is written on this form… Ahem, ‘ _First version: they are six feet under, wrapped in metal and liquid plastic.’_ ” She looked at the Batter, confusion clear in her eyes. He had no more of an idea what that meant than she did, and made that very clear. Screwing her face up, she put the form back down and moved to follow the Batter as he went through the floor.

They had made it partway through the next room when she spotted another form on the far side. Moving to get it, she was stopped by the Batter’s hand. He looked down at her, eyes focused with unnerving force on her own. “…Let me.” Moving ahead of his Player, the Batter found he was right in doing so. Two…cats, maybe? Chihuahuas?...floated up from behind the table, hissing with hot air and their spines clattering horribly. His Player’s visor slipped down as the battle commenced. This time, the Batter waited for her instructions; the treat was not immediate, so he would let her handle the motions.

“Wide angle, please,” his Player requested, and the Batter was quick to oblige.

_Tiburce (x2)*_

_Flying ghoul with bad intentions._

_HP: 45 / CP: 10_

_No weakness/resistance_

As informative as that was, the Batter still did not know exactly what manner of creature he was looking at. Whatever they were, they were weak; two strokes of his bat had them both down. His Player flipped up the visor after the list of obtained items passed—“An _eye_? What on earth is that for?”—, and moved toward the note. She paused for a moment beside the Batter, giving him a questioning glance. He nodded, holding back a prideful smile; she acknowledged his worth as a guardian, his ability to defend her. _Better than Dedan._

“This doesn’t make any more sense than the first one,” his Player declared. “’ _Second version: They are eight, and they have long beards. They watch what is happening from their high silver spheres.’_ ” His player looked thoughtful, before muttering to herself, “Six…eight.”

As she stood there in thought, the Batter cleared the rest of the floor. Once assured nothing would get her if he was not with her, he descended the second set of stairs and found an Aura of Justice. How he could find an Aura, he did not know. He just did. He gave it to his Player as he returned back up the steps. Watching her stow the Aura—do not ask him how that worked—he searched her anxiously. He did not like leaving her unattended in this place; it set his nerves on edge. She had no visible injuries or changes, other than that she had finally lowered her bandana from around her mouth, breathing a bit more easily here.

After assuring himself that leaving her alone for a moment in an only partially secured place—unlike the barn, which he knew only had one way in and one way out—he moved ahead of her up the stairs. The floor was as dead as the other two. He moved through the floor slowly, only stopping to kill the Tiburce that would occasionally pop up, and to let his Player read the odd notes. “’ _Third version: A sole insect, whose mandible spit meat.’_ ” As they moved to the right half of the floor, the Batter paused. He could feel something, something like the earlier Elsen. He prepared himself.

Only a moment later did the headless Elsen stumble around a pile of boxes toward them. The Batter swiftly dispatched it, noting the pause his Player had before giving out orders. As the former Elsen melted away, he turned his attention to her. She was looking everywhere but at the Elsen. “…I can take care of those, if you wish.” He offered her, concerned.

Such a fool! Of course she would be uncomfortable killing another creature, even one on the peak of corruption like that. She mad most likely been rationalizing the spectres in that they were not living. “Ummm… Urg, I should be fine doing it… but would you?” She finally answered him, looking way ashamedly. She had no reason to be ashamed; he did. He underestimated her purity and kindness. Of course she would be uncomfortable with hurting another being.

“It is no issue,” he offered. “If we encounter more creatures like these—” He knew she understood what he was implying, as her shoulder hunched slightly at the reminder. “—on our mission, I will take care of them as well.” She shifted her eyes back to him, embarrassment and relief in equal parts shining through.

“Thanks. I should eventually be able to help, but…” He nodded at her, thinking of what he had just gotten her to promise. If they did have to fight Dedan at any point, she would no longer have control over the battle. He would be making the call to kill Dedan, while she watched. He much preferred that idea, over the thought of her interacting with Dedan, even to kill him. It would be the same for any human-ish creature they fought; her watching, not staining her hands or soul with their filth, and him acting on his duty as her guardian.

Up the stairs on the right was another note. “ _’Fifth version: Five, like the fingers on a hand. Their lungs produce primordial smoke’._ Is this the creation story of this world?” His Player shook her head. “We missed the fourth.”

Back down they went, and the Batter continued clearing the floor. On the far side of the third storey they found the fourth note. “’ _Fourth version: They are four, each one attributed to an element. They protect their respective crystals…’_ ” His Player trailed off, setting the note down with a disquieted moue. The Batter moved up the stairs, keeping an eye on her trailing form.

The last storey of the floor held the final note on one side of the large room, and a fidgeting Elsen on the other. “’ _Last version: There are but two, in a secret zone.’_ ” The Batter thought around that one; combined with the other notes, it painted an ominous picture. He did not like it.

He faced the Elsen, whose fidgeting intensified. “Uh… Uh… The access to the secret lift is uh… forbidden…” It paused, scrunching up its face. “Did… did I say secret?” The Batter did not feel like watching the Elsen possibly go through a crisis. He could feel the sensation from before like a layer on his skin now, and he could tell was it was.

_Hatred._

“We must pass.”

“Ah? Uh… Really?” The Elsen looked shocked, but then shook its head. “No, uh… I think that’s… uh… impossible… Unless… you uh… you have the code?” The Elsen looked at him expectantly. Fuck.

“We have it,” his Player piped up from behind him, looking triumphant. “It’s 6-8-1-4-5-2.” The Batter blinked at her, as did the Elsen. How the hell did she know that?

“Ho-How?” The Elsen voiced the Batter’s disbelieving thoughts. “You… You must not pass!” The Elsen looked panicked, fidgeting faster as its skin started to rub off its hands. “I don’t want to die!” The Elsen lunged over the counter at the Player, head rolling off with a sound similar to stepping on dry grass. The Batter smashed his bat into it, sending it back into the wall, where it slid to the floor and melted. The head lay there for a moment, before blankly stating “I’m going… to Alma…” It heaved a gasp. “…It will be nice.” It melted into the floor.

They both stared at where it had been for a second. “Alma? Like, the center of this zone? That’s… ominous.” The Batter nodded at his Player’s words; he had thought the same thing. This seemed off. They moved to the elevator, and as the doors slid open the Batted could feel the hatred roll out and across his skin, stinging like nettles. His Player did not seem to notice the sensation. _DEDAN._

The elevator had only two buttons, and as they rose up the shaft the Batter could feel his skin tremble at the anger pouring from above. This was stronger than before at the barns; Dedan had to be blisteringly mad, as that was what the Batter’s skin felt like it was doing. The doors opened, and his Player darted toward the yellow cube floating to the right. The Batter kept his eyes looked on the doorway in front of him. He could feel him.

He waited for his Player to finish before moving through the doors. The sight before him was not what he had been expecting. His Player gave a short hiccup of a gasp before silencing herself.

Dedan stood behind a massive desk, cigar lit in his mouth as smoke billowed out from where his nostrils must be—that was conjecture on the Batter’s part, seeing as the man had no visible nostrils—and curled around his blazing white eyes. He was surrounded by spectres, and did not appear at all pleased with their presence.

“Miserable morons!” He snarled out, fangs clicking intimidatingly. “Piss off!” He swiped his clawed hand at the closest spectre, ripping through its intangible body with ease. _Well damn, guess I really can’t kill him for being the spectres leader Doesn’t mean I cannot kill him for another reason, but that would have been convenient._

Dedan released a low growl, sending noticeable shivers down the Player’s spine. “This is my zone! You ain’t got the right ta be here!” Another swing tore through another two of the spectres, and he snapped around smartly to face the last two. “Get outta my sight, you phantoms of shit!” Another swing and they were gone. Dedan took a drag of his cigar, snorting out the smoke in anger. The rolling hatred was crawling over the Batter’s skin, he could almost believe it was visible.

“Hhh… Hhh…” He turned his head, eyes alighting on the Batter’s tall form. “YOU!” He removed his cigar from his mouth, crushing it in his hand. The Player’s eyes widened as she watched, mostly hidden in the doorway behind the Batter; he had to feel the pain from the coals, right? “It’s _you_ , you’re the source of all my troubles! The ectoplasmic lord who’s been eyeing my beloved zone!” The Batter started; odd, that was what he was going to accuse the General of being. “What do you want? Why’ve you decided ta be a pain in the ass?” Dedan slammed a clawed hand down on the desk, cracking it. “I’ve dedicated my whole life ta this place! You’ve got no right ta ruin it with your damn ghosts! SHOVE OFF!” He snarled menacingly at the Batter, unnoticing of the Player in his rage. Had he not been so furious, he would have never missed her.

The Batter stepped further into the room, partially revealing the Player. Dedan did not notice, focused on the Batter. “You are mistaken. I am not a phantom.” The tone the Batter stated this in was matter of fact, clearing a bit of Dedan’s rage. It was said as a fact. “I am a purifier. I’ve come to purge the world of these ectoplasmic beings.” The Player drew back around the corner of the doorway, unsure if she wanted to be a part of the tense showdown beyond.

“How dare you respond? And how dare you imagine that I’d just put up with this shit…” Dedan trailed off, eyes fixing beyond the Batter. He could feel it now, the sensation from the barn. It was in the next room, just passed the doorway. He drew his eyes back to the Batter; as soon as this cretin was dealt with, he would investigate that _delicious_ feeling. “Listen good. I’ll make this simple. Get outta here and take your goddamn spectres with ya, or I’m going to kill ya.” He leaned back from the desk, sneering at the Batter. “I hope that’s clear enough for ya.”

The Player leaned out from the doorway; looks like Dedan wasn’t going to listen to the Batter. As much as she didn’t want to interfere here—because Dedan was so cool and the Batter had a classy aura going on—it appeared she had to. “Um,” she said, stepping into the room. “He’s, um, he’s telling the truth.” She stuttered to a stop as Dedan fixed her with his eyes, the glowing ocular organs piercing. She gave a small swallow; focus on those, not on his very muscular chest. Which was bare. “We are here to… eliminate the spectres, not bring more.”

Dedan was barely listening, eyes locked on the source of the tantalizing feelings running down his skin. So pure, so interesting. He glanced at the male companion; what was the relation? Not family, for certain—thought the man did remind him of someone, but who?—and, Dedan sneered again, most definitely not lovers. The Batter moved to block Dedan’s view of his Player, eyes narrowed on the General. He had far too much interest in his Player for it to be safe.

Dedan turned what she said over in his mind, rage dropping even further. It made sense, and there was no doubt that a being like _her_ wasn’t lying. After a long period of silence, he turned his attention to the Batter.

“I’ll believe that ya ain’t involved with the spectres. However, if I see ya again, you’re dead.” The statement was wholly directed at the Batter, who tensed as Dedan’s eyes moved to his Player. “As for you… Well, we’ll see when you get to Alma.” The Batter clenched his jaw tight enough that the bone creaked, knowing what the man meant deep inside. It certainly wasn’t good.

With that last parting remark, Dedan was enveloped in rings of light and teleported away, presumably to Alma. The Batter lowered his bat, and the duo stood in silence, thinking very different thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *I'm pretty sure that Tiburce is referring to its original form Tiburtius, from which the name Tiburce is derived. Tiburtius was a martyr who was convicted of being a Christian, confessed his faith and walked barefoot over hot coals with no injury. He was then accused of having used witchcraft to have accomplished this, and was beheaded. I’m assuming this because OFF tends to use references to the Bible—more often the Christian/Catholic version than not—and with the exception of a few characters, most have biblically based names. I have some theories about this, which will be incorporated into later chapters.
> 
> Also, I am sorry this is late! I honestly just forgot to post it yesterday. Hopefully no one was waiting up or anything... Thank you all again for your continued support!


	12. zone 1-11: RESPOND

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italicized Sentence: The Batter thinking to himself/Text from the Visor  
> Italicized Word: Emphasis  
> Italics Underlined: Mental Breakdown  
> Bolded Words: Heavy emphasis  
> Bolded Words behind “::” : Game Text
> 
> WARNING: Rated T for non-graphic battle sequences and awkward scenarios. Oh, and some minor language.  
> DISCLAIMER: I do not own OFF, or the affiliated characters. I only own the vague Player character.

The tram ride to Alma was short, the rain still splattering against the windows as it traveled over the plastic sea. The Batter stepped out first, tilting his hat to the rain, before letting his Player off the vehicle. They wasted no time in getting inside, as the rain had been steadily getting heavier as they approached Alma. The Batter was careful to shield his Player from as much of the rain as he could; he had been lax about this duty of his, and he would be remiss not to change that.

Inside the building was a single, purple room with a single Elsen standing in front of the door. It looked at them apologetically as they approached. “Uh…” it wheezed out, “I… I don’t have the right to let anyone pass… Unless… Unless… they answer some questions…” The Batter blinked at the Elsen. Odd way to prevent someone from entering a place, but really, what had he been expecting from an Elsen?

“Right then, the questions?” His Player was standing next to the Batter, wringing out her hair. The Elsen nodded, and got down to it.

“Number one: The second came from Jerusalem and…” The Batter tipped his hat over his eyes. What kind of question was that?

“…the third came from Orta.” He turned sharply to look at his Player, only to find her looking at the posters on the wall. How did she know that?

“Number two: The Holy Trinity is made up of…” That one the Batter knew, but he stayed silent.

“…Roses.” He was correct. Though generally any question about flowers could be answered with roses.

“Number three: Notre-Dame first appeared on the…” Was that not a building? What did it mean, first appeared on? Buildings did not just appear.

“…the Sixth.” Guess his Player understood the question; she had not hesitated in her answer.

“Number four: How many threes are there in June?” What did that even mean?

“Um…shoot…22.” His Player’s answer did not sound very certain.

“Number five: Cyrille, Kevin and…” That was not even a question, just a list of names.

“That’s not a question, but Jonas.” And yet, his Player still got it. SO intelligent and wise, his darling Player.

“Alright, then the last question. If you turn March upside down, what two digit number can you read?” The Batter was more than baffled with this question. How could one turn an entire month upside down? A highly nonsensical question, in his opinion.

“87,” the Player answered without pausing, a smile lighting up her face. “Is that all the questions then?”

The Elsen stared at her wide eyed. “That’s… That’s correct…correct…” The Elsen gave a rasping wheeze and lunged forward at the Player. The Batter smashed it back before it could reach her, the body melting outside the door. The head rolled slightly, gasping. “My… My nails are all dirty…” Then it too was gone. _Filth._

His Player knelt down, examining the soot covered clothes, still clearly uneasy with the process. “What on earth could cause an entity to corrupt like this?” She reached out to touch the soiled cloth, but the Batter swiftly grabbed her arm, his skin barely even twitching. Oh, placing a restraining hand on a pure being; such filthy actions. But he could not allow her to dirty her flesh by touching those gabs, it was awful enough that she was continually afflicted by himself.

“I do not believe that would be wise,” the Batter mumbled, releasing her arm. Would she forgive him for his impertinence? She should not, but she had shown herself to be kind and more caring than he deserved before.

The Player nodded, standing up and brushing off her legs. “Guess you’re right.” As she swiped the dust from her knees, the Batter moved out of the building to inspect the newly passable area. Plastic—wait, was that plastic?—splashed softly against the edges of the island, rain still plipping down, and an Elsen slowly making its way toward them. He moved behind his Player as she stepped out, hunching over her slightly to keep the rain off her as they moved forward.

“Hey, stop that.” The Batter froze, looking down at his Player. “Look, this looks like it will be a big area; it would slow us down if we walked like that.” Looking up at him, his Player smiled. The Batter felt warm. “I appreciate the thought, though. Thank you.” She thanked him? Oh, how kind his Player was, to thank him for doing his duty. It pained him to allow her to get wet—what if she fell ill?—but his Player was right. It would take far too long to continue in such a manner. _And I need to kill Dedan soon._

The Elsen’s heavy breathing was audible over the rain now. “Why is the plastic red here? The rain is still pink.” She moved over to look at the discolored fluid as the batter focused on the approaching Elsen. It was moving faster, looking concerned as it inspected him. The Batter moved to intercept it, leaving his Player behind him, still inspecting the plastic. He kept an eye on her, afraid she would fall in. Could she swim?

“You… You… uh…” Oh right, that. The Batter watched the shivering Elsen, wet and nervous under his gaze. Pathetic as these things were, it might have some information on where to find Dedan.

“I’m here to see Dedan,” he said, watching with amusement as the Elsen recoiled from him.

“De…Dedan…” It seemed to consider this for a moment, gathering what composure it had. Its watery eyes landed on the Player, and it relaxed, understanding flooding its face. “Yes… Yes of course…” The Batter tensed, his Player moving up next to him. The Elsen cleared its throat loudly, standing up slightly taller, but still slouching.

His Player leaned in to whisper to him, “That was _not_ plastic.” She sounded bemused by this as the Elsen began to speak.

“Hhh… You’re here at the meat fountains—”

“The _Meat Fountains?_ That’s a thing?” His Player sounded incredulous, and more than a little disgusted. The Batter tilted his head toward her, looking at her shocked face. Her world must be very different, he thought. What did they have instead of plastic to drink? What do they breathe instead of smoke? What did they consume other than meat? The Batter was suddenly concerned; would he be able to obtain any of what she used for sustenance in this corrupt world? She was too pure to consume what he did!

“—the center of the first zone. Here, meat flows freely, continually filling these immense metal pools you see before you. Our work consists of pouring this meat into bottle before the fountains overflow. The meat is then immediately delivered to all the other zones, from zone 1 on.” As the Elsen continued its spiel, it was oblivious to the near comatose state the Player had fallen into.

“But why? Where does it come from?” The Batter hovered, fretting over her. “Why does it even exist?”

“As the first of four elements… It’s an important element… Because without meat, people would have nothing to eat. They would die of starvation, one after another.”

“Okay,” the Player murmured, “That makes sense. But why is it a liquid? I have solid meat that we’ve found. Do they liquefy it on purpose?” She was baffled. The Elsen ignored her question, eyeing her with interest. The Batter shifted, drawing its attention back to him.

“Ma… Master Dedan has an office in the center of the fountains.” Ah, now they were getting somewhere. “But… but nobody has ever found it.” The Batter stared at it incredulously. How the hell did any of these creatures survive?

The Elsen titled its head, thoughtful. “Generally… speaking… Master Dedan seems to only appear when necessary…” Probably for his own sanity, avoiding the Elsen. “Well, uh… there.” Well what? None of that was helpful, you worthless scum wad!

“… … Who are you, anyway?” It glanced at the Player again, who had brought herself back under composure. Poor Player, stuck in a filthy world; she had not mentally prepared for the depravity of this reality, it seemed. “It’s not often that Ma… Master Dedan sends out a memo.” What?

“I’ve come to liberate the world of malignance.” The Batter watched the Elsen carefully. What was in this memo? From how the Elsen had reacted, it involved his Player. He had to get ahold of it.

“Oh… Oh really?” It rubbed the back of its bald, misshapen head. “Uh… well then… Can you liberate me?” The Batter still, and the Player snapped her head up. The Elsen lunged at the Batter, skin erupting in black liquid as it made its attack.

“Home Run!” The Player yelled out as she dove to the side, and the Batter obliged. The former Elsen’s body squished under the force of his bat and was propelled into the meat pond. The head hissed, sitting on the edge of the land.

“Perhaps it will get better now,” it gave a wheeze, eyes rolling to land on the Player. “…now that you’re here…” The Batter did not wait for it to melt, kicking it into the lake. His Player came to stand by him, looking at the fading ripples.

“He was corrupted too…” She trailed off, closing her eyes. After a moment, she opened them and began to move further into the zone. “Why?” The Batter did not answer. It would do her no good to know that everything in this world was rotten. That nothing pure was left here. That the Elsen were not—

“Save point!” The Player rushed ahead to mess with the floating yellow box. On the adjacent platform was a familiar, oddly dressed man. Who was not in the slightest bit wet.

“Hello!” Zacharie’s eyes traced him up and down. _Why do I feel oddly uncomfortable?_ “In good shape? I see you are!” _I feel frightened, like this is outside my capabilities to deal with._ “…Perhaps you have some spare credits?”

“Indeed we do, Zacharie!” His Player bounced over, sliding the card out from…somewhere. “And hello!” Zacharie gave a deep chuckle, coking his hips to the side.

“A pleasure to see you again, my dear.” He tilted his head, and the Batter got the impression he was smiling at her. “Need anything in particular?” The Player grinned happily at the taller man.

“In fact, I do. Would you happen to carry water bottles by any chance?” Wa…Water? What would she want that for? It was toxic!

“Ahh, can’t drink plastic, right?” The Player nodded. “Well, lucky for you, I am an amazing, reality breaking NPC. So, I do have water bottles.” The Player cheered and the duo got down to haggling over the price. The Batter stood there, wondering. If she drank water, did that mean they had lakes, rivers, oceans filled with it? If she, a pure being, could drink it, did that mean it was not toxic, but rather that he and everything else in this world was too corrupted to take it? If so, it brought into perspective how far this world had fallen.

“Alright, my dear! Take care!” Zacharie waved as the duo moved back over to the yellow box, allowing the Player to save again before they moved on. Heading to the left, they found an Elsen standing by a lake of meat, with an odd sign behind it.

“Plea… Please let me work!” It shrieked out as it grabbed for them. The Batter did not hesitate to smash it. It gurgled, body melting and pouring into the meat lake. “Yet, I’ve never been ill…” The head followed, sloshing into the tainted pool. The Batter moved forward to inspect the symbol on the wall. It was the silhouette of a man. Why it was even there baffled him. Stepping back, a piece of the former Elsen’s clothing crunched under his foot. He knelt down to inspect it as his Player did the same with the image. The Batter pulled the pants back. A stained piece of paper sat there.

**::Pedalo recovery point. Call a pedalo?**

The Player touched the man and jumped back slightly. Sitting in the pool was a duck boat. “Ah! It’s a duck!” As his Player examined the boat with glee, the Batter examined the paper.

_Memo to all Staff_

_In recent events, it has come to my attention that you morons are not meeting standards. As such, if production does not increase in volume and quality, cuts will be made. Additionally, I have discovered that a person of **considerable** interest to me will be visiting Alma. Make her feel welcome and inform me when she arrives. When she does arrive—_

The rest of the memo was stained with the black goo that made up the Elsen’s remains. The Batter snarled under his breath. What business did he have with his Player? She was his! Dedan had no right to even look at her, let alone take an interest in her! He would have to be dealt with swiftly.

“Batter, come on! We can use the boat to get to other areas,” the Player called, waving at him. The Batter stood up, dropping the memo as he did. He had to focus; Dedan would be dealt with, but for now, he had to care for his Player. “Oh, _God._ There are ghouls in the meat. They are living _in_ the meat!”

And take care of that too.

* * *

The Batter had come to a very important conclusion. Alma was too damn big. After wandering around, flipping switches and battling aquatic ghouls, they had finally opened the door to the main building. And their way back there. Again, too big.

The Batter hustled his Player inside out of the rain finally, and surveyed the room. A tingle scratched its way across his shoulders, eerie in its familiarity. _Dedan was here._ The Player looked around the room, her face scrunching up.

“Oh no. It’s one of these, isn’t it?” She sighed, slumping a little as she dripped plastic onto the floor. “I hate mazes.” Going straight, they entered an identical room, and the Batter understood. This building was a maze; the odds of them finding Dedan in a reasonable amount of time were slim to none. The odds of finding anything at all were slim to none.

Continuing straight again, they entered another room. This one was not the same, only having two doors instead of four. And sitting in the center of the room, cleaning himself, was the Judge. Of course, in a maze with near no hope of finding anything, they would still find this bastard.

His Player coughed lightly, and the Judge looked up, lowering his leg. “Ah! I wish you good day, omnipresent comrade…and toy.” Excuse me? “You will soon be able to admire all the apples and ultramarine landscapes of this area.” What did that even mean?”

“Hello, my felicitous feline friend,” his Player replied. “Would you mind lending us a paw? I’m afraid I am no good with mazes.” The Judge purred, flicking his tail.

“Of course. You seem bewildered by the unique architecture of this place. If that is the case, you should learn to concentrate.” He gave the Player a toothy grin. “In order to not be misled whilst choosing the opportunities offered at each corner of the maze, you had better remain and ponder a little while longer before crossing one of these trap doors next time, young madam, young drunkard.” This cat was getting on his last nerve.

“Thank you, Judge.” She scratched him behind the ear before moving off through the other door. The Batter glared at the cat for a moment before moving on as well.

“Think nothing— _Hack! Hack hack cough!”_ The two stopped and turned to look at the Judge. He was coughing quite harshly, and the Player took a step toward him. As she did, a mess of slimy hair rocketed out of his mouth, splatting onto the floor. All four of the Batter’s eyes widened.

“Pardon me.” The Judge gave another wheeze, sitting up. “Hairball.”

_That was not natural._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, Dedan again next chapter. Honestly my favorite character, and I feel I understand him (in writing at least) better than the others. A reminder that all my headcanons for these characters will eventually be posted up on Corrupted Save (shameless plug), so if you are interested be sure to check there periodically.
> 
> Thank you all for your support, and I'll see you next week!


	13. zone 1-12: REBIRTH

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italicized Sentence: The Batter thinking to himself/Text from the Visor  
> Italicized Word: Emphasis  
> Italics Underlined: Mental Breakdown  
> Bolded Words: Heavy emphasis  
> Bolded Words behind “::” : Game Text
> 
> Warning: Contains Dedan, so swearing. Also, graphic battle sequence. As such, Rated M. Reader discretion is advised.  
> DISCLAIMER: I do not own OFF, or the affiliated characters. I only own the vague Player character.

“Okay, I understand. The music gets louder as we approach the correct door.” The Player put her hands on her hips, looking put out. “I really should have noticed that before. Sorry, Batter.” The Batter shook his head. His kind Player, always taking his worthless self into consideration. She was more than he deserved. That said, the Batter could not hear any music. He could only feel the _itch_ growing stronger as they progressed. It drowned out the tingles that his Player’s innate purity always sent down his skin.

After at least ten rooms, the duo stepped back out into the plastic rain. The Player went to the red cube and began messing with it as the Batter examined the closed courtyard. There was a chest, which the Batter smacked lightly with his bat to open. A Joker card was inside; the Batter picked it up, handing it to his Player as she came over.

“A Joker card, huh?” She hmm-ed quietly, before putting it away and pulling out a bottle. Taking a swig of water—the Batter shivered slightly in awe, that she was so pure as to drink _water—_ she looked up at the building ahead of them. “I’m going to take a wild guess and say that this is Alma’s Central Command building.”

The Batter looked up at the impossibly tall building. It seemed a safe assumption. Entering, there was only a long hall, filled with stairs as it climbed up. At the top was a tall doorway, and the Batter paused. He was on the other side; he could feel it. His Player looked at him quizzically, before moving to go around him.

“No, wait.” The Batter held his arm in front of her. How conceited he was to order his Player around, but it was for her own good. That filthy upstart was inside. If his Player went first, she could get hurt or worse, Dedan could try and take her from him. The slithering thought curled in his chest. _That was unacceptable, Dedan would never replace him._ His Player though about it, before nodding and stepping back. So trusting, so accepting of his position as her guardian.

The Batter stepped into the office, his Player right behind him. Two meatfalls poured into pools behind a large desk where Dedan paced, snarling and snapping. Papers lay scattered across the floor, the apparent cause of his ire. Dedan froze, back to the pair. He could feel her, her aura creeping across his skin like ants. He turned his head, looking out of the corner of his eye. The Batter stood possessively in front of her, as she peered out from behind him at Dedan. He fought a smile. _Perfect_.

Turning to face them fully, he fixed his eyes on the interloper. “…You.” The Batter shifted, reading his bat. “By the Queen’s thousand faces!” He took notice of how the Batter flinched slightly. So, he had a history with the Queen, hmm? What a lovely excuse to get rid of the annoying obstacle.

Dedan leaned forward, huffing smoke out of his nose. “Are you crazy?” Are you just completely retarded?! What part of ‘ _I’m going to kill you’_ didn’t you understand?” The Player moved slightly, into the doorway. Dedan’s eyes fixed on her, holding her in place.

The Batter bristled, moving to block Dedan’s view. He lifted his bat. “I am here to eliminate you.” Dedan looked at him, before bursting into loud laughter. He knew why the Batter was here; it was plainly writ upon his face. Dedan was a threat to his position with the girl, and he was here to remove the threat. The fool was jealous.

How cute.

“You think you stand a chance against me? Me?!” Dedan chortled at the Batter, taking another drag from his cigar. “You’re insane.” He gestured around him, eyes glowing with mirth. “I’m the guardian of zone 1. It ain’t nothing without me! What mental disorder got your blind faith to hide even the slightest bit of evidence from yourself?” The Player focused on what Dedan had said. The Guardian?

“Wait,” she spoke up, drawing both males attention. “What do you mean you are the guardian of zone 1?” Dedan leaned back, eyes focused on her thorough the smoke. She was so small, he thought, tilting his head as he examined her. So pure.

“I’m the lynchpin for this zone.” He sighed out another smoke filled breath between his teeth. “Guardians keep a zone stable, by providing a central point of reality convergence. Without us…” He shrugged. The Player got the idea.

The Batter smirked. This was perfect. He could not purify the zone without killing Dedan; the zone would continue to exist in its current state with him here. It was the perfect excuse to kill him. “I’m the one who’s going to purify the world,” he said, his voice filled with barely contained glee. “And you’re the pest that eats away at the purity of this land.” He shifted stances, drawing his bat up to fight. “Prepare yourself.”

The Player shifted uncomfortably. She liked Dedan; he was interesting…but the mission came first. If Dedan was the stabilizing point of this zone, they had to remove him to purify the area. She sighed, flipping down the visor. This was why you didn’t get attached to enemy characters.

Dedan snarled and flipped his desk out of the way, the furniture splashing into the meat pool. “You’ll taste the pain, you sick spirit.” He clenched his claws together and roared. “I’m gonna cut your face to remove that insufferable smile!” He lunged forward, under the Batter’s swing and slashed his claws down the pale man’s front. His head next to the Batter’s, he whispered, “And, I’ll take her from ya.” The Batter swung again, a wide swing to drive him back. Dedan gave a screeching laugh as he leapt back, hands coated in the Batter’s inky black blood. The Batter snarled; he hated seeing his own blood, so filled with taint that it was like soot and ink.

_Dedan_

_Royal guardian of zone 1._

_HP: ??? / CP: ???_

_First Boss_

The Player grimly nodded at the information. She had thought so. Dedan looked like a powerhouse, so it followed that he would be a boss. “Hit him for a HomeRun.” The Batter swung viciously, striking Dedan in the side of the head. The general let out a hiss, before snapping his teeth down on the bat, tearing chunks out of the wood. The Batter yanked his bat back, growling. “Drat. Batter, see if you can’t get a status effect on him. Try the Saturated Chain!”

He swung his bat over his shoulder, and pulled the chain out, swinging wide. Dedan ducked, the toxic chain passing harmlessly overhead, and made his own attack. His claws dug divots into the Batter’s leg, who roared in pain. He slammed the chain down on Dedan’s head, wrapping it tightly and he pulled.

The Player tsked, stepping back slightly to give them more room. “No effect.” Dedan clawed at the chain, ripping it off his head and out of the Batter’s hands, tossing it behind him. Black blood dripped down from his head as he grinned. Blood just as tainted as the Batter’s own.

“Come on, you can do betta’ than that,” he taunted, darting forward to rake his claws down the Batter’s side. The Batter swung his bat, connecting with him solidly and forcing him to skid back a few feet. “I’ve seen Tiburce with harder hits, ya pansy!” The Batter snarled, whipping Alpha off his wrist and tossing at the general. It wrapped around him, pinning his arms down in a Long Awaited Embrace. Dedan began struggling, growling at the white ring. “You think I can’t still fight, ya little shit?! I’ll fuck you up!” He kicked out at the Batter, hitting him in the knee and snapping the joint backward. The Batter went down, and Dedan brought his leg out in a sweeping kick, like an Hour Hand, smacking into the Batter’s face. He went into the wall, sliding down next to his Saturated Chain, dazed.

Dedan took those few seconds of distraction to free himself from Alpha, who flew back to the Batter. Dedan chortled at the limp man, moving forward to deal a final blow while he was down. “Crap,” The Player said, fumbling in the menu. “Luck Ticket!” She crushed it in her hand, and tossed it at the Batter, the item vanishing into dust before it reached him. He stood up, shaking his head as he regained his senses, his leg wobbling on his destroyed knee. The Player watched anxiously. They were getting their asses kicked.

Batter moved forward, smacking Dedan under the chin with his bat, sending him back. Alpha darted at him, slicing across his chest. Dedan swatted Alpha out of the air, the ring smacking into the ground. The Batter swung the chain he had retrieved, wrapping it around Dedan’s neck and pulling. He snarled, grasping at the chain around his neck as Alpha lifted into the air unsteadily, moving to nip slices at the choked general.

Dedan finally ripped the chain from his neck, panting. Both Batter and Dedan were badly injured, black blood flowing into pools at their feet, oozing into the meat fountains, turning them murky. After a long moment, Dedan began laughing.

“Ya little shit! Look what you have done.” He gestured to the Player, who was watching quietly. “She’s kept ya alive this long, but what it that worth? You can’t kill me; I’m a guardian.” He sneered. “Even if you could, what good would it do you? She’s seen how vicious you are. You think she’ll accept you?” The Batter growled, stumbling forward and swinging. Dedan dodged, laughing. “You think she’ll stick around?” The Batter smashed his Bat into Dedan’s throat.

_HP: 1/4000_

Dedan’s eyes widened as he slid to the floor, clutching his throat. “What? Dammit, this can’t be…!” He looked up at the Batter, who watched impassively as he hacked. “I…I…I…lost? Lost?” Batter raised his bat, eyes glinting red as he looked down at Dedan. “You can’t fucking kill me! You can’t kill a fucking guardian!” Dedan grasped at the Batter’s pant leg in desperation, claws tearing new furrows in the fabric.

The Batter smiled and brought the bat down. “I say you’re just afraid to die.” He crushed Dedan’s back, spine cracking and blood splattering on his face. Dedan gave a stuttering gasp, black staining his fangs.

“hhh… hhh… hhh…” The Batter raised his bat again, black blood dripping down the marred wood and on to his shoulders. How sweet it felt. He gave a toothy grin, his back to his Player.

“You’ve been defeated, _Dedan_ , guardian of the first zone. This land is now pure.” He paused, tilting his head, red eyes maniac. “Now die.” He smashed his bat down, Dedan’s body bursting into light.

_HP: 0/4000_

The room began to glow red, obscuring everything from sight. The Batter spun, grabbing his Player and wrapping himself around her protectively. He lifted his head up, looking around the red space, cradling her head to his chest.

“…” What was that sound? Squinting, the Batter could see something drawing closer. As it came into view, he stiffened. It was the image of a red room, with a small child in it. **_HUGO._** The tainted child coughed, not seeing the Batter or his precious cargo.

“That started badly…” the child murmured, fiddling with his blanket. The scene faded to black, the Batter clutching his Player to his chest. Sitting in the darkness, the Batter released her. What was Hugo doing here? He stayed crouched as his Player stood, looking at something in her hands.

“The Cancer-card…If I’m right, this will take us to the next zone.” She looked around, noting the three doors, each marked with a respective number. _0, 1, 2._ A faint feeling in the back of her head had her looking at _1_. She moved toward it. “Let’s head back to zone 1. I want to make sure that we succeeded.” The Batter stood, nodding. Now was not the time to be worrying about Hugo. He had to live up to his Player’s standards, her work ethic.

He glanced down at himself. He was no longer injured, and his clothing was mostly repaired, only a couple small rips on his tunic remaining. He gave a smirk, fingering the material. Dedan was dead. The victory tasted so sweet, the promised removal of a threat sending pleasure through him.

He moved through the door after his Player, stopping short. Zone 1 was now desaturated, like himself. A lack of all color—other than the boxes that floated around—it was all just pure. His Player stood confused, listening to the banging in the distance. It sounded like a scream was tossed in once and a while, sending shivers down her spine. But that couldn’t be right. All the Elsen had been purified, moved elsewhere. Right?

Moving through the dead zone, they found a chest with an Inspiration, which was tucked away before moving on. The Player stopped, staring down the empty tracks. Up ahead was something foul and rotted, shambling its way toward them. “Batter.” He moved to attention at the worry in her tone. “What is that?”

He moved in front of her, thinking of what to tell her. He decided on the truth. Or, rather, a bent version. “That is a Secretary. It is the remnants of the sin that steeped this area, made corporeal. They will fade after a bit, unable to sustain themselves without a new source.” The Player nodded, and the Batter swung, crushing the mushy body of the Secretary with ease. They moved on. “Any noises you hear will be a Secretary, attempting to trick you into allowing it in. Ignore them.”

So the Player ignored the sounds of banging, the muffled voice yelling “I’m here! Please, someone, I’m here!” It wasn’t real. She ignored the whispers, unable to hear them fully. The Batter could, though.

“You killed us you monster we trusted you it hurts too quiet I’m scared” it went on and on, becoming white noise in his ears. It was all lies, last attempts from sinful beings to drag his Player down. Wandering through the purified zone, the duo collected some items—a Monday, some pieces of Abaddon’s meat, a Grand Finale—as they removed the Secretaries they encountered. After a long while, they had made it back to Dedan’s office.

There was nothing left in the zone, everything was gone. The whole area was barren.

Except the office wasn’t empty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we now break from (loose) canon. Hope you all like the story and plan on sticking around for the good stuff :)
> 
> ALSO, for the sake of combat, I have decided to change how I had it arranged earlier. The Player can provide support and advice on what to do, which the Batter will follow, but he is free to act on his own in battle. It's a tad difficult to have someone controlling someone else in text during a non-turn based battle system.


	14. zone 1-13: RELIVE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Author finally updates this story, and it just so happens to be the BIG ONE.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italicized Sentence: The Batter thinking to himself/Text from the Visor  
> Italicized Word: Emphasis  
> Italics Underlined: Mental Breakdown  
> Bolded Words: Heavy emphasis  
> Bolded Words behind “::” : Game Text
> 
> DISCLAIMER: I do not own OFF, or the affiliated characters. I only own the vague Player character.  
> Warning: Rated M for swearing, allusions to drug use, semi-graphic descriptions of nudity, and battle sequences. Reader Discretion is advised.

“See, _sweetheart?_ ” Smoke curled from behind sharp teeth, the general leaning back in his chair as he smirked. “This is what happens when a zone is without a guardian. It Fades, everything in it goes ta shit.” He took another drag, looking amused as the Batter drew his bat and swung. The bat smacked into the general’s side with a meaty smack, causing Dedan to growl at Batter.

He swiped at the Batter, snarling as he sat forward. “Stupid shit, knock it off!” Pulling his coat to the side, he examined the rapidly fading bruise. It was mere seconds before it was gone. “Heh.” He blew his smoke out into the Batter’s face as he backed away, standing in front of his Player. Smoke billowed out of Dedan’s nose as he went back to reclining, grinning maliciously at the confused man.

“How are you still alive?” The Batter bristled, confused. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. _Right?_

“Like I said, you can’t kill a guardian.” Dedan crushed his cigar, the small embers sizzling against his skin. “At least, not that easily.” He stood up, stretching languidly. “You destroyed my zone, leaving me stuck here in eternal misery. Fortunately for me, you came back.” Dedan drew his claws across the back of his chair, uncaring of the way fabric and wood shredded under his idle attentions. “You see, as my killers, we share a _special bond_.” He grinned, pointed teeth clicking ominously. Dedan’s eyes locked upon the Player. “Which means that my fantastic self has latched on to you, my soul bound to you.” He knocked his shoulder against the Batter as he strode by, and leaned over the Player, eyes bright. “I’ll be going wherever you go. **_Forever_**. Isn’t that wonderful?”

The general rolled his head back to look at the Batter. The Batter couldn’t breathe. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. Dedan was supposed to be dead, **_he was supposed to be DEAD_**. Why was he here? A tiny voice in the back of the Batter’s mind screamed an unheard question. **_Why Was This Time Different?_**

Dedan straightened up, turning his grin back to the Player. “You see, as a guardian without a zone, I needed something to take care of.” He raised his hand and stroked the Player’s head, watching how his claws threaded through her hair like silk on knives. The Batter snarled, yanking him away from his Player and swinging for his head. Dedan ducked easily, chuckling condescendingly. “Give up, ya little shit. Ya can’t hurt me permanently.” He swiped at the Batter, catching his shoulder and rending it open. His grin lessened as he watched the wound heal up. “Well damn. Looks like I can’t hurt you either.”

The Player fixed her hair slightly, eyes wide as she looked up at Dedan as he moved away from a stunned Batter. He loomed over her, his large grin back as he took her smaller frame in. “Looks like DumbFuck here can’t get rid of me.” He leaned down, eyes locking with hers as he moved his face close. His breath brushed up against her face, smelling of tobacco and something metallic. The Player’s own breath was caught in her throat.

“You could though. You could hurt me so bad that I Fade.”

The Batter barely kept himself from staggering. No. He could not kill the parasite, the interloper. And he most certainly could not ask his pure, just Player to soil her hands with the demise of the scum. What could he do? What could he do? **What could He Do?**

The Player stepped back, uneasy. He was too close. “Why is that? I have no more of a connection with you than the Batter did.” Dedan chuckled, easily ruffling her hair despite her attempt to gain distance. He stepped forward again to close the gap.

“Ah well, doll, that’s easy. You both may have killed me, but you, _sweetheart_ ,” He laughed, something glimmering in his eyes. “ _You felt remorse for it._ You regretted killing me—and that was all the opening I needed to attach to your soul.” He slipped behind her smoothly, far faster than she could react. He picked her up and squeezing her. “So, I’m now a part of you, and only you. Don’t worry though,” Dedan dropped his chin to the crown of her head, relishing the warmth he could feel from her body. “I can’t hurt you, as you are my anchor to reality. Or rather, I _won’t_ hurt you.”

This was **wrong**. This was not happening. The Batter snarled, rushing forward and snatching his Player from Dedan. She was his, not this filthy parasite’s! He held her to his chest as he hurried out of the office, heading toward one of the red boxes. His Player said that she could use them to bring them back to the nothingness. Dedan would not be able to reach them there.

“Not gonna work, shithead. I’m _attached to her_ , closer than ya’ll ever be. Ya ain’t getting rid of me, so piss off.” Batter ignored him, placing his Player down by the box. She got the message, moving to open the door. The Batter turned to face Dedan as she worked, the box beginning to stretch vertically.

“You are **_filth_** on her soul. Her purity keeps her from being tainted by you, but you are not worthy of being near her.” Dedan chuckled, smirking at the equally tall man. How cute. He was jealous, and he couldn’t do anything about him being there. How delightful!

“Neither are you.” Dedan narrowed his eyes, his grin rictus. “We are both scum compared to her innocence, but at least I don’t delude myself with the shitty lie that I can atone for my sins.” The Batter growled and spun away from Dedan. The Player had finished creating the door, opening the door, waiting for them. He hustled her through, following closely. He slammed the door before Dedan could get through, a triumphant grin twitching across his lips.

“Try again, dumbass,” Dedan said from behind him, leaning on the Player. “I get too far away from her now, and I’ll just find myself right back with her.” The Player shrugged him off, giving him a side-eye.

Batter clenched his fists, feeling his fingers strain to be something other than fingers in his growing rage **_desperation_** _hate_ **.** A small hand on his arm startled him, ripples twitching across his fingers. “Hey, uh, Batter?” His Player’s voice was unusually timid. “It looks like he is going to be with us for a while, if not till the end, so…um…don’t let him get to you, okay? Give as good as you get.” She gave him a small smile, before moving off toward zone 0. She had decided to make that “Home Base,” so to speak, and she needed to rest.

“Awwww, did the wittle Batter need a pep talk because he was gwumpy? Fucking pathetic.” Dedan sneered at him, moving to follow the Player. Batter ground his teeth, before giving in. He stuck his arm out, clotheslining the irritating man across the throat. Dedan crumpled to the ground.

“Shut up, trash.”

The Player walked toward the Judge’s abode, ignoring the bickering she could hear behind her. It was like she had children. Interesting though, she thought. She hadn’t seen the Batter express this much emotion, ever. Thinking about the matter, she almost missed it.

The Player stopped on the path, vaguely aware of the two behind her doing the same. That room that held the hints… something was wrong. She could feel it. The Batter stepped in front of her, Dedan moving to peer passed her. The Batter drew his bat, striding toward the door. Something was making his skin crawl, pulling to something beyond the doorway. A sin so strong that it tugged at him. Not even Dedan’s sin of wrath* was enough to yank his false flesh in such a manner.

Stepping into the room, his eyes were drawn to a set of stairs leading down. “Those weren’t there before,” his Player’s quiet voice had him tensing. Whatever was down there was a direct threat to her; he could feel it on his skin. Dedan ground his teeth lightly, moving in front of the Player.

“Hey sweetcheeks, mind staying behind us? Even Numbnuts over here feels something off about what’s down there.” The Batter ignored the taunt, moving down the stairs as his Player agreed to stay behind them.

The stairs were too long, and the hallway at the bottom too crooked. The Batter felt his skin shift, pooling and pulling him toward what was at the end of the hall. Moving slowly, he could feel his skin begin to split as it more insistently pulled toward the room at the end. The air was getting tighter, like a string held taut.

Grains of sugar crunched under his boots as he stepped into the room, eyes locked on the occupant of the room. A half-naked figure reclined on a mountain of shimmering grains of the sickly sweet substance. Dedan pushed the Player back a bit further, his claws twitching. “Holy shit. It’s Sucrose**.” He tilted his head, white eyes fixed on the indolent figure. “I thought she had Faded, after that whole deal with…” He trailed off as Sucrose shifted, raising her head slightly to look at her visitors, her vest gaping open to reveal her chest.

“…I’m ignoring…” She gave a floaty giggle. “Why everything’s so frightening.” Her head lolled as she chuckled in her sugar haze. “I’m never hungry, :-). Think of something beautiful really hard,” she breathed out a sigh, a glint of sugar crusting her lips. “and maybe you will see it tomorrow.” The Batter lowered his bat; at the moment the sugar-addled girl was no threat.

“Who are you?” The girl just laughed lightly at his question, dragging her hand through the sugar she lay upon, lifting some to slip between her fingers. It was Dedan who answered, lacking the venom the Batter was accustomed to.

“Her name was—is, Sucrose. She was a merchant who sold between the zones, but… No one has seen her in forever. Thought she had Faded, what with her being burned in the zone 3 factory and all.” He got quiet, looking at the girl. Scars from the fires laced across her chest, thick ropes distorting her body. “Guess not.”

Sucrose remained unaware of the discussion, giggling and babbling on. “Like a beautiful day, for example.” She slid down the mountain of sugar, sitting against the bottom as the grains rained down her shoulders, catching on the black tape obscuring her breasts. “With a huge ducky. A frightening one.” The Batter shifted, his skin still fighting to writhe and stretch toward the addict.

“What are you doing here?” Something about her was familiar, not in the way that his Player had been, but still familiar. She made his sins crawl, pulling with a magnetism he had not experienced before. It was wrong.

“Let’s not lose—” Sucrose stood up, arms above her body. “—any time—” She looked like a puppet, the Batter realized, raising his bat swiftly. Something was very wrong with her. “—to useless introductions.” Her head raised, pink eyes glinting behind her long fringe with a murky glee. “Let’s dance, my dear friend. :-)”

Sucrose lunged, thin thread spinning from her fingers and darting into the mounds of sugar. Small Elsen heads swung from the threads when they emerged, wrapping around the Batter’s bat and yanking. He held fast, keeping a firm grip on it.

“Fuck,” Dedan muttered, moving forward and swiping his claws at her. He may not like the Batter in the slightest, but Sucrose was clearly out of her mind. She was likely to try and hurt the Player if she won. His claws passed through her like she was a cloud. “FUCK. I can’t hit her!” He moved back, swiping his hand down angrily at his inability. His claws caught something though, slicing through the thin thread that held the Batter’s weapon. “What the fuck?”

Sucrose lifted her sliced threads, giggling. “Waaaaaht…? Is someone there~? o.O” The Player held back a gasp; she couldn’t see Dedan at all. She couldn’t feel him there.

The Batter took his opportunity, unwinding the Saturated Chain from his back, and swinging it at Sucrose. It smacked across her scarred chest, tearing the scars, leaving them to slowly ooze. “Ah, poison inflicted!” His Player called out, visor down. “Try and use Alpha to hold her still.” Batter complied, snapping his wrist out and flinging Alpha after the sugar-addled girl. She laughed as it wrapped around her, pinning her arms down and preventing her from using her strings.

“Cheater~ That’s no fun ;-).” She moved to kick the Batter, but faltered, stumbling as the poison took its toll. As she did, she passed right through Dedan. Dedan winced, moving back to stand by the Player as the Batter beat down on Sucrose.

“Ah piss. I forgot that’s how this worked.” At her inquisitive glance, he explained. “I can’t interact with anyone that isn’t tied to the same anchor as me, in some way or another. Can mess with stuff still, as I exist, but…” He dragged a hand down his face, before digging out a cigar and lighting it by snapping his fingers together, sparks flying. “Damn if it ain’t fucking irritating!”

Batter raised his bat, smashing down again and again and again into her skull as she laughed. Her white hair was beginning to shade black as her scalp cracked under his blows, tar-like blood oozing onto the strands. His slowly stopped crawling, as she grew closer and closer to death. She had stopped struggling entirely, her laughter sounding relieved. Why wasn’t she fighting back anymore? He slowed, his bat still raised above her head as her blood plipped onto the sugar-coated floor.

“I’m feeling…” she paused, breathing a short laugh, “way too cold…” She chuckled, looking up at him with foggy eyes. He could see a faint glint, smothered far away in the misty drug haze she was in. It was thankful. “I didn’t like that dance…my…dear…friend… :-(“ Her eyes welled with tears and madness, the fluid cutting tracks down her face through the sugar and blood. “I think…the huge, frightening ducky…has won this round…” At the edge of her life, her eyes cleared and brightened with comprehension. “Say goodbye to Zacharie for me.” And then her body still, losing color until only white and grey remained. Alpha slipped off her body, and she slumped back into the mound of sugar she had laid upon. It was quiet for a moment, before the soft sfffffttttt of sugar could be heard. Grains trickled down, slowly covering the corpse with the faintly glittering substance.

“Zacharie…?” The Player mused, her visor going up as she reached out to the ground and pocketed the Grand Chocolatier. “This woman, Sucrose, knew him?” Neither Dedan nor the Batter answered, and so the trio moved out of Sucrose’s tomb.

Sitting in the hint room, they took a short rest. The Player did not sleep, tired as she was—not that the Batter or Dedan knew she was tired at all. It was only upon moving into the building proper to head for the door that the Player saw him.

Zacharie was inside.

He lacked his usual zeal, no bouncy responses or greetings with flair. His eyes were shadowed behind his mask as he looked down at the ground, hands clenching and unclenching rapidly. He was very clearly distraught. “…”

“Zacharie?” The Player ventured to speak with him, while the Batter hung back. Dedan merely puffed on his cigar, content to watch this play out. He recognized the merchant, having not previously known his name, but rather his mask. He understood now. The poor bastard.

“I guess it’s better like that,” he finally replied, eyes down. The Player reached out, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“What’s better, Zacharie? What’s wrong?” Her voice was filled with concern for the eccentric merchant, having grown fond of him swiftly.

“…” Zacharie took a breath. “Better…that she’s dead. I’ve kept her alive for so long, given her sugar to numb the pain.” He paused, raising his head to look at her. “Numbed everything else too.” He fell silent, looking deep into the Player’s eyes. She could see a multitude of emotions tumbling around his head, each fighting to be seen. Relief, sadness, anger, regret, pity…the Player could hardly keep up. “Need anything in particular?” Zacharie asked, moving into his role as the merchant. The Player didn’t let him, grasping him.

He tensed. Why did she care? Why did she care every time? He let tears spill from his eyes, trailing down his face behind his mask. Why did it hurt every time? He clutched at her back, sobbing into her shoulder as she hugged him.

Why couldn’t he go numb, like _she_ had?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoo boy, this was the Big One. The One Where We Fuck Canon. I wanted to put this one up for a bit now, but I got eaten by school (don't go to law school folxs, its a trap!). On the upside, I write more when my mental state is in shreds, so enjoy some regular updates :)
> 
> In my head canon, Zacharie and Sucrose were not lovers. Sucrose’s backstory will be further revealed further in, in zone 3’s chapters.
> 
> There is going to be so much wonderful banter between Dedan and Batter now. It will be glorious. Angst!Batter is going to be so much more manageable now. 
> 
> Let me know if Dedan ever becomes OOC. I’m trying to remain in his character, but his cadence is hard. 
> 
> *I looked into the game, and according to what I could find, the named characters align with the Seven Sins. Dedan Wrath, Japhet Pride, Enoch Gluttony, Zacharie Greed, The Queen Envy, Sucrose Lust, and Hugo Sloth. I don’t know if it is true, but I liked the idea.
> 
> **Since the substance is called sugar, I will be using the version of her name as Sucrose (never loved the Sucre version). Also, I am preserving the way she talks, so yes the emoticons will stay :)
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has commented, Kudos-ed, Bookmarked, or subscribed. You make me smile.


	15. zone 2-14: RETURN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Rated MA EXPLICIT for Dedan, so be prepared for overt swearing. Oh, and extremely graphic torture and murder. You know, the usual. Reader discretion is advised.

The Batter plucked at his new Taiyou Tunic, musing as they walked out of the building. After Zacharie had composed himself, his Player had bought new gear for everyone—including the _parasite_ —with extra pairs in case of damages. But that was not what was on the Batter’s mind.

What was it like, to feel that…sad? To have your insides rend with a sadness so potent that you could not hide it. He did not understand. Perhaps he was too far gone to do so. He glanced at his Player, who was opening the door out of zone 0. Did…she understand it? Had she ever felt such a pain as that?

“Hey, dipshit.” Dedan smacked him in the shoulder. “Look lively. If she sees ya lookin’ like the asshat ya’re, she might become worried over your worthless self.” Dedan’s eyes glinted with a savage glee. “Or are ya goin’ to keep whining like a kicked puppy, bitch?” Batter snarled, lunging at Dedan.

As the two wrestled, trying their hardest to kill each other, the Player sighed. This was going to be a theme this whole quest, wasn’t it? Suddenly, she felt like she had a good idea of what being a single mother felt like. Perhaps she could just…? She opened the door, slipping through.

Before she was even all the way through the door, her escorts were by her side again, still bickering. Well, it was worth a shot. Ignoring the fighting, she moved through the nothingness to the door of zone 2, dragging the Batter and Dedan along behind her.

“Huh? Oh, it’s zone 2. Haven’t been here in what feels like forever! Could never forget the pansy-ass pink ground here, though.” Dedan laughed, inspecting the area. Seriously, like the hell with the color scheme in this zone? Give him his wonderful zone 1 any day.

He flinched a bit at that. Zone 1…

“Do not soil the Player with your filthy words, parasite.” The Batter looked at Dedan contemptuously. The filth had no place here, and its words were a taint on his perfectly pure Player’s soul.

“Parasite?! Who tha fuck do ya think you’re talking to, asshole? Piss off!” The Player ignored them, messing around with the red box floating nearby and saving their progress. Oddly, Dedan did not show up as a party member on the menu, or the save file. She wouldn’t say anything about it, though. Batter would use it to taunt him— _and she was not giving either of them more fuel to that fire_ —if either of them even understood.

The Batter turned his head from Dedan and moved down the pink—he hated to agree with the parasite, but it was an odd choice of pink—path behind his Player. _His_ Player, not that scum of a parasite _Dedan’s_. His Player stopped dead—oh, the idea sent sickening ripples down his spine. Best to not use that phrase again—in front of him, mouth agape at the tall buildings in front of her.

“Holy cow! I had no idea this world had advanced to building this height. Er, well, I mean there were big buildings in zone 1, but those were work buildings. Completely different.” Ah, what a cute reaction. His Player was so pure, innocent of the world. That was why he had to take care of her. He cut his eyes over to Dedan, who was puffing on another cigar. And why Dedan had to go. “Hey, this sign says there’s a library in the city!” Dedan chuckled, tossing his arms behind his head as he strode after her.

“Yeah, Japhet was always into knowledge and shit like that. Wanted to enlighten the Elsen and show them how to live.” He snorted out a burst of smoke. “He gave up pretty fast, faster than I did.” The Player eyed the building in front of her, presumably the library.

“Japhet, huh…” The Batter narrowed his eyes at her. What was that reaction? It was…odd, to say the least. Did she recognize the name? He pondered this as they slipped into the building. Inside was a cool blue, with two doors on either side of two staircases, which were framing a desk. The Elsen manning the desk was talking to another, which was motioning quite enthusiastically. For an Elsen anyway.

“Yes,” it wheezed emphatically. “You shouldn’t lend any more books to that man.” It leaned in conspiratorially. “He tears out the pages. It’s almost _dangerous_!” It straightened back up, brushing its tie off slightly. “Yes. I am going back upstairs.” It staggered its way up the stairs, oblivious to the trio watching it.

“Well, that was fuckin’ weird.” Dedan snuffed his cigar out in his palm and slipped it into his pocket. “The hell did it mean by ‘almost’ dangerous? Shit like that doesn’t matter!” Despite the foul language, the Batter found himself agreeing. That whole interaction seemed off, stilted almost.

“Hmm,” the Player said, thinking. A faint muttering drew her eyes to an Elsen huddled in on itself. It rocked back and forth slightly, eyes fixed straight ahead as it repeated its mantra under its breath.

“I’m doing nothing wrong… I’m just looking at the wall…” She gave another hmm. There was most certainly something wrong with this zone. She moved next to the Elsen, waving a hand before its face. It didn’t even blink. Dedan tilted his head, inspecting the Elsen.

While the Player did this, the Batter had moved to the desk. While he hated talking to the worthless things, the Elsen might provide information on where to find Japhet, this zone’s Guardian. It would speed along their mission in purifying the zone if it did, but the Batter kept his expectations low.

“Hellow. Welcome to the library.” It shifted sheepishly, and the Batter held back a sigh. Not even two sentences in and already something was wrong. “Uh… I should point out that the upper floors are inaccessible because of the spectres.” The Batter furrowed his brow slightly. Now that was odd.

“There are spectres in this building?” The Elsen shivered, looking terrified. Or so the Batter assumed; it was hard to tell sometimes. It could just be cold, for all he knew.

“Uhh… Y… Yes…” It shrunk in on itself, as if afraid to speak to him. Which it should be, but the Batter kept still. His perfect Player was in the room, and while she **tasted _so good_** , he had to fight the urge. He would not soil her with his filth again unless he had no other option available. “Why do you ask?”

“I will eliminate them.” The Elsen blanched, recoiling forcefully from the Batter. It knocked into the shelves behind it, book shitting the floor. It swiftly crouched down and began picking them up, avoiding eye contact.

“El…eliminate the spectres? But… uh… uh…” Dedan wandered up and knocked a book off the counter. The Elsen picked it up, unaware of his presence. “You know, uh, you…” Dedan knocked the book off again, the Elsen bending down to grab it. “You could get hurt… and uh… there’s nothing for you up there.” The Elsen put the book down on the counter again, watching it. “Just walls, shelves, stairs—” Dedan smacked the book down again, smirking as the Elsen jumped with a squeal. “—and an old cat.” The Elsen finished nervously, pressed into the corner away from the book. The Batter tilted his head.

“A cat?” Was it that mangy feline the Judge? Could be, considering he had the most irritating habit of popping up wherever his Player was. Worth investigating, at the very least. “I will go up and purify the upper floors.” The Elsen stuttered, torn between watching the book sitting on the floor and the Batter.

“Ah… Um… good…” It eyed the book cautiously, body shaking slightly. “…okay. Don’t be too loud, then.” Having decided the book wasn’t going to move again, the Elsen looked at the Batter fully. “And the fourth floor is not really accessible… People have torn pages out of the books.” A light gasp from beside the Batter had the Elsen shrinking back. Further, somehow.

“Who would do such a thing?” The Player stood there, face aghast at the thought of tearing apart a book. The Elsen stood a tad bit straighter, nodding in agreement.

“It is such a ghastly thing to do,” it agreed. “So I don’t want to go up there. It could be dangerous.” The Player raised an eyebrow in confusion, as Dedan groaned. He kicked the book on the floor, hearing the Elsen squeak in terror. That made him feel a bit better.

“Holy shit, what a fucking pansy.” The Batter was inclined to agree, as the trio moved to head out the door to the left. An Elsen stood by a bookshelf in the narrow hallway, looking confused. It sighed as they approached.

“This… is a large building.” Dedan just looked at it blankly, while the Batter inspected the bookshelf next to it. It was fake, with all the books glued into place. The absolute hell was with this place? The Player nodded at the Elsen, who looked very pleased—maybe—to have been acknowledged. They moved on.

They stepped out the door and moved away from the library. The Player turned to look at it, comprehension filling her face. “Oh. There are symbols on the wall of each side, so you know where you are in reference to the building. Useful!” That meant it was done by this zone’s Guardian. Elsen certainly couldn’t have managed.

“Yeah,” Dedan puffed, breathing out smoke from his relit cigar. “Japhet tried to make it easy for tha' Elsen to find their way around. Don’t know if it worked; those things are fucking morons.” The Player gave a wry smile, moving down the path away from the library. The Batter cut a swift glare at Dedan, not amused by his language.

The path ended abruptly at the plastic oceans, with several Elsen loafing around. The Player moved to talk with one that was standing off to the side, slightly straighter than the others in the area. “I have no fear.” Odd statement to start a conversation with, the Batter mused. Then again, Elsen… “I know how to stop being scared. I am not afraid.” The Batter narrowed his eyes slightly. Why did it keep saying that? “Do you want to know how?” It didn’t wait for a response, making the batter bristle. What an impertinent creature it was. “Come a little closer, and I’ll tell you… if you’re not afraid.” Dedan snorted, as the Batter shuffled slightly. This Elsen…

The Player complied, and the Elsen leaned in. The Batter tensed, reaching for his bat. If it made one wrong move, he would crush it. “This page has enlightened me. I’m not afraid now.” The Elsen tiled its head. “Do you want to be free from fear? Give me 100 credits, and I’ll give you the page.” The Player didn’t even hesitate, making the Batter sigh and Dedan chuckle. His Player was too innocent; Batter would just have to smash the swindler when she wasn’t here.

She moved back toward them, holding the page. “That was lucky!” They both looked at her blankly. “No, really. See, the books in the library were missing pages, or so the desk Elsen said, and that was why no one could reach the fourth floor. This page was clearly ripped from a book, so it is probably one of those pages!” She held it up for them to see. “If we can find all the pages, we may be able to gain access to the fourth floor!” The Batter understood perfectly well, but that did not mean he was fine with his Player being swindled into paying for it.

“Huh, well ain’t that odd?” Dedan’s voice dragged him out of his slightly murderous thoughts. The parasite was standing at the edge of the metal ground, peering out across the plastic. The Elsen around him had shrunk away, even without being able to see the general. **_How odd._** “The path to the amusement park is missing.” He stretched lightly, noticing the Player’s eyes on him. He flexed slightly, amused at her squeak. “Guess we’ll have to come back later.”

The Player nodded firmly, moving away from Dedan at a fast pace. She wasn’t embarrassed. No, not at all. Just like how the Batter was not attempting to drown Dedan behind her. Not at all real. Moving around the building, the Player spotted a large doorway with SHOP on top. Looking back, she could still see the two scuffling—Dedan had gotten the upper hand, but the Batter was bashing his face in. Surely it wouldn’t hurt for her to go in without them. After all, it was just a shop.

Moving up the stairs, worried wheezing stopped her. “Uh, miss… wait…” She turned to look at the Elsen sitting on the stairs. “The mall is full of spectres. It’s terribly frightening.” Well, there went that plan. She wasn’t equipped with any weapons, being a non-combat entity. “At least the lobby area is safe, after they closed the rest of the mall off.” Oh. That worked.

“Thank you for letting me know. I’ll be very careful inside.” Moving passed the Elsen and into the building, the Player was surprised at how cold it was inside. It was the first time in this world she had felt a change of temperature. The interior was a cool blue, with a yellow save point floating off to the right, next to the hall. Across the way from the door was a familiar form.

“Zacharie!” She darted up to the masked man, who gave a warm chuckle at seeing her. He popped out his hip, in a much better mood than when she had last seen him.

“Buenos Dias, dear Player! Where’s a better place to shop than a shopping mall?” She laughed along with him, pleased to see her friend in a better mood. Being sad did not suit the flamboyant merchant.

As the duo got down to business, another pair were realizing something very important was missing. The Batter released Dedan’s throat as he looked around, ignoring the gasping filth. Where was his Player? He scrambled up, clutching his bat firmly. Where was She? All four of his eyes were wide open now, red spilling out as he whipped his head around, searching for her. It was dangerous out there, she had no weapons, no way to defend herself. Not that she would; his Player was far too trusting! She was naïve and kind, easily taken advantage of in this tainted world.

“Fuck. Where did she go?” The Batter spun to look at the parasite. He was still here, so she couldn’t have gotten far. He ignored how Dedan stilled, looking at his eyes. “What the fuck is wrong with your eyes?” The Batter growled, the low sound rumbling a threat. Spreading his senses, he could feel her faintly to the North of the library. Judging by Dedan’s increased speed, he had done the same.

Tracking the feeling of her purity _scratching_ at his skin, the Batter stopped in front of a large building that read SHOP. An Elsen sat out front. Stomping up to the pitiful thing, he grasped it by its necktie. “Did someone go past here?” The Elsen nodded rapidly, face sickly pale.

“Y… yes… I warned her a… about the spectres in the mall. B…but she went into the lobby…” There were spectres in the mall. His Player was in the mall. **_He was not with his Player._** “It’s…it’s safe there… no spectres in the lobby…” The Elsen gave a frightened wheeze and the Batter saw **red**. How dare it. How dare this piece of filth let his defenseless Player enter an infested place. How disgusting of a failure it was.

He could not let it continue to exist. **_But it needed to suffer._**

Hunching over, the Batter felt his body crack as he dropped the Elsen. His jaw split as his face elongated, teeth sharpening to razor points. His tongue extended, darting out to swipe at his gashed face. His leathery skin ripped his mask of humanity like an over-ripe fruit as he grew, bones snapping and stretching. Dragging his claws down his body, the Batter clawed at the lies he used to hide himself from others. Slamming his tail down, he gave a roar as his body stopped its shifting. The Elsen trembled before him, lying on the cracked stairs, frozen in fear.

Snatching the Elsen up, he lifted it up to his eyes. It shook as he growled, claws ripping its shirt. “P…Please!” **_Filth. Usthemitall FILTH._** Snarling, the Batter slammed the Elsen down, its spine snapping on the edges of the stairs with a sharp crack, legs going limp. His other clawed hand shoved itself into the soft belly of the creature, ripping it like a water balloon, leaking out around his claws. The Elsen retched, grasping frantically at his arm. Grinning, the Batter twisted his claws around and around inside it, listening to it scream as he wrapped its insides around his claws. **_W e a k worthless_**. Chuckling heartlessly, he yanked his hand up, tearing out the Elsen’s intestines as it bawled. Fat tears ran down its face. Raising his treat to his muzzle, the Batter slurped them down like noodles, blood splattering across his face. He laughed, pupils blown wide. He felt _amazing! So good so tasty. Rip it tear it. Make it **suffer!**_

The sobbing of the Elsen got louder, and the Batter smirked down at the bloodied Elsen, tongue sweeping around his muzzle to collect the blood. “ _Shut up._ ” Slithering his tail up around the Elsen’s throat, he shoved the end into its mouth, muffling its whimpers. Gently trailing his claws down its side, Batter watched his claws leave gashes down its flimsy flesh. He leaned forward, dragging his tongue across the face of the Elsen, savoring the salt of its tears. _Rip tear ripteartear_. He chuckled, before angling his claws and pushing. Meticulously slicing strips of skin off the unfortunate Elsen, the Batter grinned so wide his muzzle ached, meeting the Elsen’s panicked eyes. Each strip he peeled off, the batter swiftly ate, never breaking eye contact with the pathetic creature. The worthless thing’s screams intensified as its eyes rolled in panic and agony, muffled around the tail still shoved into its throat. It was starting to get on his nerves.

Flexing his tail, the Batter snapped the Elsen’s jaw like a twig. A scowl worked its way across the Batter’s muzzle; **_it was still screaming_**. Pulling his tail out of the creature’s disfigured mouth, he reached in and tore out its tongue. Still it screamed. Exasperated, the Batter grasped its jaw firmly, claws puncturing through the bottom to wrap all the way through. “ ** _I said shut up._** ” He yanked, the Elsen’s jaw coming off easily in his grasp. The Batter snickered, tossing it up and snapping it out of the air, his jaws crushing it like tin. A rumbling purr thrummed from his chest, his tail flicking in delight.

The Elsen gurgled faintly, hands clutching at the Batter’s shirt as he laughed at the worthless mess of flesh and blood. Its eyes were streaming with tears, its dull black depths filled with terror. _Aw, is the poor thing scared? **Worthlessfilthytrash.**_ Reaching down, the Batter drove his claws into the Elsen’s eyes, plucking them out to toss to the side. “ _You didn’t need those, right?_” Only wet sobbing met the Batter’s mocking. He laughed, tossing his head back. It was just so _delicious_.

Seizing the useless creature by the neck, he held it above his head. It struggled weakly, hands grasping at his own as it gasped wetly, blood bubbling up to smatter down on him. He smashed it down onto the steps again and again as it struggled to breathe, ribs snapping with the force. “ _Pathetic._ ” The Batter snarled as he punned the limp Elsen to the ground, tail whipping from side to side furiously as he took in its barely breathing form. Sinking his claws into its arms like hooks, the Batter began to slowly pull. It found the energy to let out another gurgling scream as its arms were slowly torn off with a sound like the ripping of wet cardboard. Dropping the Elsen, the batter shoved the arms into his mouth greedily, crunching them with ease. Blood sprayed out as he mashed them, eyes locked on the Elsen’s mutilated body. _So good so tasty wan t more moremoremoremoremoremoremoremore_

Tearing and pulling and crunching until nothing of the body was left but the bloody rags of its clothes, the Batter laughed, licking his muzzle as he flexed his blood-soaked claws. _It feels so goodsogoodsovery very good!_ Nothing quite satisfied like eating something _alive_. Taking a step down the stairs, something squished under his foot unpleasantly. Looking down, the Batter grimaced. He had stepped on one of the filth’s eyes. **_What a waste._**

The Batter scraped the gelatinous mess off his foot. _Worthless filth. It was your own fault. You dared. How dare you. How dare you even **exist**. All your fault._

**_Butweareatheones who did not watch her. WEareResponsible for anything that happens to our REDEMPTION._** The Batter shrunk down, donning his skin of lies. Stripping off his blood-soaked clothes, he used his tunic to wipe up most of the blood drenching the stairs. His pants got the rest. Slipping on the clothes he had been given earlier—as a back up by his considerate, sweet Player—the Batter casually tossed the bloodied rags he had been wearing into an open window. Walking down the stairs, he picked up his bat carelessly. His smooth movements belied the thrashing monster just below the surface of his façade.

Dedan stood at the bottom of the steps, watching him. His cigar was laying on the ground, smoldering. His white eyes met the Batter’s red, and Dedan’s ever-present grin grew even larger, spreading impossibly wide. “Well, you little **_monster_**. And here I thought ya were a Goody-goody… Does she know?” The Batter’s silence was enough of an answer. “Oh, this is rich!” Dedan cackled. “Oh, don’t get your panties in a bunch, asshole. I won’t tell ‘er.” He looked at the Batter with pure, vicious mirth. “I want to see this whole thing blow up in your face. When she finds out what a **_freak_** you are, what you do… **_AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!_** I can’t wait!”

The Batter turned and walked up the stairs with his bat shouldered. _Doesn’t matter if he tells, does it? Just gives us an excuse. She tastes so good so very very good._ Stepping into the building, the Batter swung his head around. **_Where isshesheisn’tthere!_** The Batter stilled as his eyes alit on his Player across the room, haggling with Zacharie. _Alright, she’s alright allgoodallsafe. She’sokayalrightSAFE._ The sight of his pure Player sooth the writhing beneath his false skin, the blood lust boiling just beneath the surface. She was okay. He would never let her go; he would keep her by his side _right there always close alwaysalwaysalways._ He closed one set of his eyes, relaxing slightly. Dedan’s laughter became louder as he stepped into the room, catching the Player’s attention. Turning to look at them, smiled. She did not know what he had done; she would never know what he had done. _neverneverneverNEvEr._

“Ah, you guys made it.” Looking at the former Guardian crowing loudly, she wrinkled her nose. “What’s with him?” The Batter shrugged, putting his bat away. She did not need to know. She could never know. Looking at Zacharie over his Player’s head, he stiffened. The dark, accusing look in his eyes spoke volumes.

_I know what you just did._

But Zacharie never said a word, just finished up the transaction with the Player, and waved merrily as she stepped out. His eyes did not leave the Batter, tracking him from behind his mask.

As they stood outside the building, the Player talking about what she got, Batter tilted his head up to look at the sky. How could he know? “Hey, where did Dedan go?” Looking around, the Batter did not see the parasite. Why did she care about him, anyway? He was not worth her time. **But neither are you. _You could have_ let her get hurt.** Shut up.

“Don’t wander off again.” His voice was quiet, and he felt shame at ordering his better. He had no right. She looked at him, considering his words. The Player smiled, and nodded at him, much to the Batter’s relief. He could not bear it if he failed her if she was hurt while he was not there. He stood in silence, basking in her existence.

Dedan walked out of the building a moment or two later, hands in his coat pockets as he strolled out. “Sorry about that, sweetheart. Ready to keep going?” The Player nodded, confused, but she didn’t ask. As they walked away from the building, the Batter caught Dedan looking back with an odd look in his eyes.

As he stepped off the final step, something bumped against the Batter’s boot. The Batter fell back and looked down. By his right foot was the other eye. Reaching down, he picked it up and inspected the black orb. Blank faced, he tossed it up into the air and ate it whole. His tongue swiped out to lick his lips.

**_ Sosweet. _ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, how are you all today? No? Okay, so yeah that whole scene up there. Right.
> 
> The Batter's panicking. Even though he can still feel her, he's freaking out over the possibility that he could lose her and fail his mission. He needed someone to blame and work out his hatred on, so the Elsen was picked. He was quite literally having a mental breakdown, and I hope that came through.
> 
> That said, this was also a longer chapter to make up for the fact that nothing really happens in zone 2 for a bit still.
> 
> In related news, a review someone left sparked an AU of this story. It won't be updated as frequently--I want to get through this one first--but I recommend you head on over and check out Scenario Failure on my works. I'd link it here, but I have literally no idea how.


	16. zone 2-15: REBATO

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will be including the text from the books into this chapter, as it lets the story flow better and I thought that maybe you all would like to know what the books said, seeing as it was quite difficult to read them in the game. Sorry if you find it tedious, you can for the most part skim them. However, if there is regular text surrounding it, it would be wise to read it. Personally, I found what the books said to be interesting, but hey. Maybe it's just me.
> 
> Sections that are marked like this **[WORD]** are words I put in to make a section grammatically correct, as I think the translation missed a few words. It doesn't change the meaning at all, just letting you all know that I am doing that.
> 
> This all said, this is going to be a longer chapter, if only to get a good chunk of the filler out of the way.
> 
> Warning: Rated M for Dedan's filthy mouth and literally nothing else.

After checking out the surrounding area—they discovered they needed ties, of all things, to gain entrance to the adjacent Residential Area—the group had moved back into the library. As the first building in the zone, the Player felt that it was best to start there.

The second floor of the library was deserted, with only a pair of Elsen occupying the space. Dedan glanced at the shelves as the Player went to speak with one. “Huh. These shelves are fake.” His voice was flat as he looked at more shelves. “These too…” He was quiet for a moment, head turning to survey the area. “Most’a these shelves are fake… Well, tha’ _fuck_ is tha’ point a this place?”

The Batter had to agree—he found himself doing that more and more with Dedan, it was pissing him off. What use was a library filled with no knowledge? Going around, the Batter easily spotted the real books, if only by the layer of dust on them. Only eight books out of this entire floor were actually books. How…odd.

“Um, excuse me?” The Player tentatively got the Elsen by the bookshelf’s attention. Despite her gentle tone, it still jumped. “Why are all the books here fakes?” The Elsen took a few deep, wheezing breaths to calm itself slightly, before responding in a breathy voice.

“I… It’s because books are fragile…” It wheezed quietly, seeming to make an effort to keep its voice down. “I prefer the fake books. You don’t need to worry about damaging them.” It carefully placed its hand against the fake books glued into the shelf, face lightening slightly. The Player moved to the other Elsen, who had been watching the group curiously.

The Batter stayed by the Elsen, eyes locked on a book sitting on the shelf next to him. **_Explanations_**. Glancing at his Player quickly, he yanked the boo out and flipped to the first page.

_Index_

_-Introduction_

_-The creation of the Modern World_

_-The Guardians_

_-The Queen and her son_

_-The Four Zones_

_-Zone 0_

_-The Toad King and the Man_

_-Annex_

_-Glossary_

_-Author’s note_

His hands tightened on the book’s binding, causing the fabric and boarding to creak slightly. No. Do not think about it. Flipping the pages, he found the rest of the book blank. Quietly placing the book back, he found himself glad the rest of the pages were missing. His chest hurt, thinking about what could have been in that book. Shaking himself free of the past, the Batter turned and moved to stand with his Player. He ignored the odd look Dedan gave him as his Player turned from her muffled conversation with the Elsen.

“Okay, so there are only a few real books on this floor. That means that there must be something important about them.” At the quizzical look the Batter threw her, she blushed. “Uh, well… that’s how these things work. I’m sure there is a puzzle involved somehow.” The Batter nodded: he remembered how easily his Player conquered the previous puzzles. Her wisdom was clearly right, and he would listen to her noble thoughts on the matter.

“Um… Don’t turn the pages… It makes too much noise… O…Okay?” The Elsen’s stuttering request was ridiculous. Before the Player could comment on the notion, it continued. “Not… that it really matters.” It looked down, seemingly ashamed. The Player gave it a gentle smile.

“We’ll need to turn the pages to get the information, but we will try our hardest to be very quiet for you, alright?” The Elsen gave a small nod, looking like it was soothed by the Player’s consideration.

“Hey, sweetheart. Don’t pander ta these things; they aren’t worth it.” Dedan chuffed lightly, as the Player gave him an indignant look. She was certainly not _pandering_ , just being polite. Ignoring him, she moved to inspect the books, starting at the left-hand side of the room closest to the stairs they came up.

Lifting the first book off the shelf, she realized the title was scratched out. Flipping around the book, it was easy to notice most of the pages were blank. Only two had any writing on them. Inside were images of flowers, an Orchis taking up an entire page. “Okay,” she muttered, “a flower.” She took note of the page numbers, before placing the book back and moving to the next, the Batter close behind. Dedan stayed looking at the book for a moment longer, eyes narrowed.

The next book was called **_Tales and Legends_** , and the Player eagerly flipped it open. She had a fondness for a good story.

_The Toad King_

_A long time ago, **[there]** lived an evil king. His face was so repulsive that he was nicknamed the Toad King. One day, a masked man met the King during an audience. He said the following words to him: "Greeting **[s]** wretched monarch, leave this land at once or perish at the tip of my blade."_

_The King replied: "I am the king and you are my subjects. You are not to go against my will." And so the Masked Man slew the King with his mighty sword._

_The End._

The Batter stiffened. He hated this story. Curious as to what his Player thought, he looked at her face, seeing her brows furrowed in a frown. He did not like it when she did that; he much preferred when she smiled.

“Why was he evil?” The Batter blinked at her, as she looked up at him. What did she mean? “It doesn’t say _why_ he was evil, just that he was ugly. Was he considered evil because people thought he was ugly?” The Batter stayed silent, watching her intently. “I don’t think that’s very fair.” How very kind of his Player, how pure and just. No one else had ever bothered to ask. She put the book back after noting the page numbers and moved across the room.

The next book was titled **_Written by E.S._**. “Odd name,” the Player commented as she cracked the book open. Her face immediately fell, causing the Batter to crowd in. What was wrong? Dedan leaned over to look as well.

_Prenez garde, Madame, vous commencez ò grossir ! ... et grossir c'est vieillir ! ... En suivant la methode Dalcroze, qui a introduit le solfege, vous conserverez toute votre sveltesse._

_Trois sonates de - determinent un amgaigrissement progressif tres sensible et six - fugues de - ont sur les cellules adipeuses une action foudroyante. On peut encore accelerer les effets du traitement en l'executant sur_

“Drat, I can only get bits and pieces of this. I don’t speak French that well.” The Player sighed, as the Batter blinked slowly. How wonderful his Player, to even understand any of it. He spoke not a word of French, preferring Common and Clear* speech. How learned his Player! After a few moments, the Player gave up trying to understand and noted the pages numbers. Putting the book back, she turned to move on.

“ _Take care, madam, you are starting to get fat!...and to get fat is to get old!_ ” She turned to Dedan, who had picked up the book and was reading it effortlessly. “ _…By following the Dalcroze** method, which introduce solfege, you will keep all your slenderness._ ”

“ _Three sonatas of-determines a very sensible and progressive weight loss—fugues of – have an overwhelming action on fat cells. You can still accelerate the effects of treatment by executing them on—_ ” Dedan closed the book, as the next pages were blank. The library resumed silence as the Player gaped at him.

“You speak French?” Her voice was as incredulous as the Batter felt. How did this military muscle head know French? A parasite, a blight on his Player, know how to read, let alone read in another language?”

“I’m fluent. Italian too.” Dedan looked at her shocked face. “What’s so surprising ‘bout that, huh?” She composed herself, hiding an embarrassed blush. She was being rude.

“Sorry, it’s just that it didn’t seem like something you would know. You look more like a fighter than a scholar.” Dedan chuckled, leaning down slightly to pat her head. The Batter bristled, but made no move or comment as Dedan straightened up, crossing his arms across his bare chest.

“Yeah, well, looks can be deceiving. I enjoyed reading in my downtime when I was Guardian of zone 1.” He huffed lightly. “Not tha’ I got too much of tha’. Between generally running zone 1 and traveling between tha’ Old District and tha’ Main District offices, I rarely had downtime.” The Player nodded slowly, blush fading from her face. She knew better than to try and put people in boxes. Shame on her.

However, something he said bugged her. “Old District?” Dedan looked down at her, tilting his head slightly.

“Tha’s were ya were in zone 1.” He watched the lack of comprehension, and a sharp grin grew upon his face. “What? Ya thought tha’ was all of zone 1? Nah, sweetheart, zone 1 was a bustling metropolis in tha’ Main District. Ya only got ta see the Old District, where zone 1 was originally established.” He put his arms behind his head languidly, as if stretching. “Would’a liked ta show ya tha’ Main District, but ya had ta go an’ **_purify_** tha’ whole thing.” His accent was thicker than normal, betraying the amusement ~~irritation~~ he was feeling.

The Player winced slightly. It made sense that there would be more to the zones than the little she had seen. _So why hadn’t it occurred to her before?_ ~~Because she wasn’t supposed to know.~~

Slightly flustered, the Player moved on to the next book. She missed the cold look the Batter was watching Dedan with, and the sharp grin the general returned.

The next book was **_Explanations_**. The Player huffed, noting the pages before placing it back on the shelf. “Well, that was a useless book. It only had the index. Wonderful.” Oh, if only it was a complete book though! She would have loved to learn more of this world’s history and lore. _~~She could ask Dedan, but why didn’t she think of that?~~_ The Batter relaxed as she put the book back and moved on. Dedan leaned in, smirking at the Batter.

“Touchy, ain’t we?” He shoved him aside, following after his Player as Dedan snickered to himself. What did the parasite know? He knew nothing about the Batter, about what he knew and had seen. Nothing. The Player was holding a completely blank book when the Batter joined her, no page numbers or anything. Just a scribble on one of the pages, barely legible despite her trying.

_I have run out of oxygen_.

Disturbed, she put the book back. Didn’t the creatures of this world breathe smoke? Why would someone here, besides herself, need oxygen? Deciding to think on it later, she moved to the next book. It was titled **_The Cardinal Points_** … and was entirely upside down. Sighing, the Player flipped the book, only to find the text was still upside down. Odd. Turning her head to the side, she started to read.

_It is not required to keep track of one's direction in the Pink Fortress. Painted on the walls are arrows pointing towards the right directions. On this page are printed the four symbols and so well as the four cardi—_ it cut off, the next page listing the directions.

_(Arrow down) South_

_(Arrow right) East_

_(Arrow left) West_

_(Double Arrow up) North_

The Player rolled her neck, cracking it. That was uncomfortable. The Batter flinched at the noise, eyes wide. His Player put herself through such intense discomfort to decipher the book; how noble and selfless she was, putting the mission first! That said, he could not allow her to injure herself in such a manner again. Though minor, such injuries were a stain upon his tatter soul, an affront to his goal. He would not be so selfish as to let her do it again.

The next book was titled **_Bismark_** , which the Batter recognized to be the name of the region of zone 2 they were in. Probably just information about the city, he dismissed. However, when the Player opened the book, he realized it was not.

_For she chose Three Guardians to rule some of the Zones. The Fire Bird was chosen as the Lord of the Second Zone, the Eternal City of Bismark. They were the most…Undecipherable gibberish while the spectres were destroying the-_

_But the dynamics of the world soon drove the people mad. They forgot about their joys and eventually succumbed to their neurosis of fear and worries. They weren't…Meanwhile, the Flaming Winged Sovereign weeped in this throne, sadde—_ It cut off there.

The pages were badly faded, but the Batter had no problem reading the words. The Fire Bird? That must be Japhet then. “Drat, I can’t read most of this.” The Player noted the page numbers and put the book back. “The Fire Bird wouldn’t happen to be Japhet, would they Dedan?”

Dedan shifted, leaning against the shelf. “First time I eva’ heard a him bein’ called by tha’ name, but I can say it ain’t outta the cards. Pretty likely tha’ puffed up pidgeon would grace himself with a fancy name.” Dedan shrugged. “Can’t say for sure, though.” The Player nodded.

The last book on the floor was called **_The Up Children Down_**. “Nonsensical name,” the Player commented, the Batter agreeing. Flipping the book open, the Player stared. That was a hellish text to try and read. Actually, was it even in Common? “The heck does it say?” The Batter leaned over, careful not to brush his filthy body against his Player. It was Clear-Speech. The Batter puffed up, pleased to be of assistance to his wonderfully kind Player.

" _And so swarming in the Belly of the World, Seven-hundred thousands **[of]** Children of the Sin gnawed at the justice put in place by the Queen during her peaceful reign. They are the physical manifestation of Evil Deed **[s]** released up the world. Forever lost in their seething madness, they are unsalvageable and immortal. Only the Queen herself, at the time of the Final Confrontation, will have the Power to annihilate the Tainted power of the worm-child._" The Batter paused, wondering if he should continue. His Player's expectant face drove him on. " _Chapter 2- Of Apocalypse and Black Liches. All of the souls on exile for their sins will be tortured for eternity by the Legion of the Black Liches,_ " He stopped, basking in the awed look his Player gifted him with. How generous of her, to think highly of his mediocre ability to read Clear. The moment was tainted by the contents he had just read, however. Lies written down to trick and beguile the masses, to convince them of the _Queen's_ worth. The words had felt like tar on his tongue, hot and thick.

“Hmm,” his Player was pondering the text as she took note of the page numbers. “Well,” she closed the book and put it back. “That’s all the books on this floor. Shall we go up a level?” Neither Dedan nor the Batter objected as they moved up the stairs.

The third floor was split into four rooms, each attached to the central hallway. After glancing around, it seemed that there was only one real book per room. Moving to the first room, the Player cracked open the book. The pages were pink, with diamonds in the background, and one page was accompanied by the number four. “A playing card,” she realized aloud. The page next to it had been torn out. She pulled the torn page she had gotten from the Elsen out of her inventory, and compared them. “Hmmm, not a match.” The page they had was the suit of hearts, with an eight. That said, if the other books on the floor were like this as well, that meant the book this page came from was here.

The page in the book was badly faded, she noticed, as she slipped her torn page back into her inventory. It would be hard to read, but perhaps it was worth it. Sitting down on the floor, she leaned against the shelf, settling in to try and read the worn text. Dedan sighed, slipping down the adjacent aisle to look around, while the Batter stood over his Player, keeping watch as he loomed.

_This is the story of the three Guardians chosen by the Queen to rule over the Zones, islets of Life lost in the Netherworld._ The Player paused. The Netherworld? As in, the Afterlife?

_The First Guardian, Dedan—_ good thing he was down the other aisle, the Player thought— _was filled with Anger. Thanks to his strong determination and his body made out of Steel, he ruled his Zone with an iron fist._ Body made of Steel? She had been pretty close to Dedan, and he didn't look like he was made up metal. Perhaps it was metaphorically speaking, seeing as he was very muscular? The Player looked down, hiding her blush from the Batter. Best not continue that train of thought.

_The second one, Japhet, was good and generous. Due to his kind personality, he was loved by all. He was constantly on his feet, doing his best to provide safety and peace to his subjects._ The page ended there, the continuation torn out. The Player closed the book and put it back. Japhet didn't sound so bad if he was described as generous. Perhaps she wouldn't have to kill him.

“Hey, I found this in the other aisle.” Dedan smacked a Joker down into her hand as she stood up. The Batter grimaced when she thanked him. Drat that parasite. The Player moved to the next room and cracked open that book. It was the same text as the last book, only with a large spade in the middle. Closing the book, she thought. She needed to see the other books too.

As she moved to step out of the room, the Batter’s head snapped up. He grasped her by the arm and yanked her behind him, hoping she would forgive him his blasphemous roughness with her person. Where she had been standing two spectres dropped down, hanging upside down from the ceiling, chuckling. He swung his bat, easily dispatching them. Peering around, he did not see or feel others in the immediate vicinity. Still, he was a failure. He had let them get so close to his precious Player. He was scum, and he would not allow another spectre that close to her.

When she had fallen back into Dedan, the Player spotted something on the wall. Brushing herself off, she gave the Batter a quick smile. “Thanks! I didn’t even see them.” Going to inspect what was on the wall, she missed the Batter’s relief at her forgiveness. How sweet his Player, forgiving his sins with an easy grace. He did not deserve to be in her presence.

Posted to the wall was a page torn out of a book, a three of clubs. Taking the page, the Player moved to head to the next room. She had a theory.

Gluing himself to her side as she moved through the building, the Batter kept a constant watch for any others. Dedan was doing much the same, to his surprise. “I may not be able ta hurt them, but at least I can warn her. Besides, I am quite literally dead if she is.” The batter hummed at his response, still scanning the area as they moved.

The Player ignored them, focusing instead on solving the puzzle. The next book had a page with a two of clubs. She had been right; slipping the newly found page into the book, she watched it secure itself into the binding/ Going around the floor—with two oversized, overprotective limpets attached—she swiftly replaced the pages on the walls into their respective books. As she slid the last page in, it occurred to her that she never the stray pages. Sitting down, she took the opportunity to do so.

_The third one, Enoch, was cold yet fair. He created the a fifth Element which he distributed in his Zone, sugar. Inhabitants of his Zone quickly became dependent of this Magical substance. Although they were happy, they were disconnect **[ed]** from reality._

_According to some dark legends, the Queen lives with her Father in her room, creating ghosts to destroy the world they themselves had created. Some say that her beauty is comparable to the Heart of the Sun while others swear she is invisible. And yet, all those rumors are nothing but speculations._

The Player closed the book. A lead… to this Queen that Dedan had mentioned. But was it right? Were the rumors in this book true? It was too early to tell, but at least it was a starting point as to where these spectres were coming from. The Batter tightened his grasp on his bat. The Queen… It all kept leading back to her, didn’t it? He seethed quietly as they made their way down to the reception desk, to let the Elsen know all the books were fixed.

The Elsen in question was shaking nervously, eyes staring blankly into space when they arrived. “Ugh, little shits.” Dedan grumbled a bit as the Batter moved to speak with it. No need for his Player to trouble herself with this scum, not after exerting herself to solve the puzzles.

“The pages are back into their books.” His deep rumble startled the jittery Elsen, who squeaked and wheezed in shock. Its body began to shake harder. The Batter held back a sneer. This thing was not worth the smoke it stole from others.

“Ah…ha!” Its body was vibrating. “That… That’s very good.” The Batter gripped his bat, moving his Player behind him as Dedan slid between the Player and the erratic Elsen. “I… I’ll let you up then. That…That’s great…” It wheezed loudly, dust brushing from its lips. “The fourth floor’s now accessible… for you and you only…” It made no indication that it was aware of its odd behavior, just watching them placidly. The Batter stayed between it and his Player as she moved up the stairs swiftly, not liking how it watched them.

No one spoke of what had happened as they moved up to the fourth floor. The Player stopped to mess with a yellow cube in the stairwell before they continued on. The Batter felt tense as they stepped on to the fourth floor. Something tingled across his shoulders, faint and cloying. It was similar to Dedan, similar to Sucrose. It was a **_sin_** , but it felt muffled.

As he examined the room, he caught sight of a cat approaching them, having descended the stairs at the opposite end. Well, the cat was not the Judge, that was for certain. It stopped in front of him, flicking its tail imperiously.

“Who…” It rasped, its voice crackling as if from disuse. “Who are you?” It dragged its eyes across him. “What is that in your hand?” Behind him, the Player shifted as she stood just outside the room. She wanted to look, but the Batter’s body language advised against it. Dedan stepped up and into the room to observe.

“You are not the Judge.” The Batter stated, watching the cat distrustfully. Something about it felt…off. It tilted its head, narrowing its eyes contemplatively. It released a strangled meow, before replying.

“The…” Its voice cracked with strain, and the Batter realized it was male. “The Judge?...” The cat trailed off, flicking his tail back and forth. “No.” He finally responded. “No, I am not.” He stood up, stretching languidly. “My name is Japhet. I am the creator of this city.” The Batter narrowed his eyes. Japhet? Was he not supposed to be a bird? Had Dedan lied to them? Cutting his eyes over to Dedan, the Batter was gratified to see confusion on his face. “I am also the one leading the phantoms, the royal instruments of my vengeance.” The cat claiming to be Japhet let out another strangled meow as the Batter and Dedan stared at it.

Sure you were, cat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *So as to slip in some language continuity, Common is English (as it is currently the world trading language in OUR world), and Clear is an unidentified language. In Dedan's fight (in-game) he has speech bubbles that said 'laugh' in Chinese, and the book The Up Children Down contains text that is almost unreadable. I'll say that somewhere between the two is Clear, and for the purposes of the story, both count.
> 
> **According to the OFF Wikia—which was partially edited by the creator of OFF himself, Mortis Ghost—the Dalcorze method was created by Émile Jaques-Dalcroze (a Swiss composer, musician and music educator who developed eurhythmic, a method of learning and experiencing music through movement). The method involves teaching musical concepts through movements, like conducting. Solfege is one of the techniques used in the method to teach pitch, though hand signals.
> 
> Did you enjoy my world-building? It literally bugged me so hard when writing these that the zones were portrayed to be as small as they were. So I'm messing with the concept of a larger zone than what we see.
> 
> Also, I have been bequeathed FANART <3\. Huge thanks to Phosphor-Sphere on Tumblr for these beauties!  
> [Sketches by Phosphor-Sphere](https://lynxonsmoothies.tumblr.com/post/634539713023393792/amazing-sketches-sent-to-me-by-phosphor-sphere-of)
> 
> I also wanted to thank everyone for your continued support. Every time I get a kudo, comment, bookmark and/or subscription, I squeal in my heart (I'd do it out loud, but no need to scare the neighbors).


	17. zone 2-16: RELIE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **WARNING: Rated PG-13 for minor swearing, an awkward battle, and a healthy dose of common sense.**

“ _You_ are the chief of spectres?” The Batter did not even try to hide his incredulity at the statement. The cat looked affronted.

“Specifically, they are my arms, sent to me by the Queen to restore justice to this zone.” The Batter grimaced. Always with the Queen, always did she interfere when she should just stay out of it. Meddling bitch.

Dedan recoiled, unseen by the cat. “Tha’… tha’ Queen?” His voice was uncharacteristically quiet, his disbelief palpable. “N…no. This cat is mad. He is not Japhet, an’ those spectres were not from tha’ Queen!” The Player watched him. That was right; he had been fighting to keep the spectres out of his zone when they were there. TO hear that the monarch he served was responsible for them… Well, it was a good thing he didn’t read the books downstairs is all.

“You must have been very determined to have set foot onto the stairs of this library,” the cat continued, unknowing of Dedan’s turmoil. After all, he could not hear him, see him. “I recognize in you a certain courage, an exceptional trait for a fear-riddled place such as this. However, my revenge will not leave anyone unpunished.” He locked dead eyes with the Batter. “Not the Elsen, not you, not even the entity I feel hiding behind you.” The Batter raised his bat, disbelieving. Was he really going to fight a delusional cat? It had stated itself as a threat to his Player, but… it kind of lacked teeth. “Never have I felt something like that…” the cat meowed, flicking his tail. “No matter, you shall be the first to succumb to the blasts of my ectoplasmic army!”

The cat stepped forward, as the Batter readied for battle. “I do not need any spectres yet to eliminate you, you poor sport pajama-wearing clown.” Hey. That was taking it a bit far. “I will finally get a taste of justice!” As he readied to leap at the Batter, the Player spoke up, having not seen any of this.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but are we about to beat up a cat?” The cat in question stopped, tilting his head. Odd, the voice that spoke sounded nothing like what he had expected.

“Oh? The entity speaks…?” The Batter stepped forward slightly as his Player pushed on his back. While not pleased with letting his Player into the room with the potential threat(?), he felt he could handle the feline should it actually attack. The Player made eye contact with the cat, curious and incredulous over what was occurring.

It was most certainly a cat. Not even with teeth, like the Judge. The Player blinked as the cat inspected her. He let out another meow, settling down on his haunches. “Your spirit is a valiant one…” Suddenly he leaped forward and the Batter swung, smacking his bat into the airborne feline and sending him tumbling back. “…and your arms are made in its image.” He finished, getting up and eyeing the Batter. “I must confess that I may have underestimated you.” He turned to face the Player again, ignoring how the Batter readied to strike again. The cat looked vaguely apologetic as it spoke to her. “Unfortunately for you, I would discard all manners as a gentleman when necessary. Especially for a new enemy.” The cat screeched, causing her to grasp her ears to block out the high pitched wail. “Spectres, come to me! Dance together and echo the song of the righteous! The torment of men heals my wounds… Your bodies will feed the intangible spirits for eternity…”

Nothing happened.

“Phantoms?” Still nothing. The Player groaned, placing her head within her hands. This was not happening. “Phantoms, come to me! I command you!” She squeezed her eyes shut behind the battle visor, which had engaged when the cat had leaped. “Curses! By what magic, baleful human, do you manage to prevent my ectoplasmic acolytes from joining me?” He hissed angrily. “No matter! You will taste my wrath!” The Batter smacked the cat out of the air again, watching as it slid across the floor.

“This is jus’ sad,” Dedan deadpanned, watching from beside the Player. The Player just groaned, not even looking.

“hhh…hhh…hhh…” The cat struggled to his paws. “Poor fool! It is not yet time for me to reveal my true nature.” He flicked his tail, smug. “Still, know that you will gain nothing by waiting, obnoxious buffoon.” The cat darted out a window, dropping something as he flew. The Batter recognized it to be an Add-On, but did not approach. His attention was on his Player, who still hadn’t looked up. Was something wrong with her? Had she been hurt? He did not see how she could have been, but…

“What’s wrong with ya?” Dedan poked her in the shoulder, and the Batter smacked him for it. Dedan snarled, swiping back at the Batter, before going back to watching the Player. Seriously, what was up with her? He couldn’t see anything wrong. She was quiet for a long moment, before looking up at them with wide, guilty eyes.

“We just beat up a delusional old cat!”

Ah. Well, yes. There was that.

* * *

Turned out the new Add-on’s name was Omega, and the Player asserted that it was a ‘support class’. Apparently, if he took special damage in battle, Omega would be able to take care of it, but it could not attack as Alpha could. Odd, but useful.

“A…Are you alright?” The trembling voice of the Elsen behind the desk called out to them, making Dedan tsk in irritation. It coughed lightly, the smell of ash slipping from their cracked lips. “You didn’t get hurt up there?” The Elsen did not wait for a response, blundering on. The Batter glowered at it. Why ask if you were not going to listen? “Well, at any rate… I saw a cat… I expect it to be by the south entrance…” The Player put her head in her hands, clearly still feeling guilty over what happened. The Batter did not.

The Player heaved a deep sigh, chanting under her breath. The Batter strained to hear what she was saying. “…do it for the plot progression, do it for the plot progression…” He blinked. Well, that made no sense what so ever. His poor Player was so stressed, her words must be coming out wrong. Outside in the pink—though as more time passed, the Batter mused it might be more of a purple—sat a familiar figure.

He stiffened. He had no desire to deal with the grinning little vermin right now, or at any time, to be frank. After all, had he not just dealt with one delusional feline? Alas, his Player perked up upon seeing the cat and raced forward. “Judge!” Dedan leaned back on his heels, looking at the cat.

“Tha’ hell is tha’ supposed to be? A finger puppet?” Looking down at Dedan’s hands, the Batter conceded that the cat would fit his monstrous claws nicely. A pleasant thought on how to eliminate that annoying feline. The cat in question pricked its ears at his Player’s call, his smile growing impossibly large.

“Ah, greetings, dear immaculate comrade!” He flicked his tail, purring with pleasure as the Player gave his head a scratch. “Has your journey not taken you to a place of optimum conditions? This is a drier area compared to previous surroundings. I must admit that I for one am delighted.” The Judge chuckled, twining himself through her legs. “The feline gent is not very fond of rain.”

The Player gave an amused smile. “No, I would imagine not. Especially such a distinguished Tom as yourself.” The Judge preened as Dedan scoffed. The Batter slowly inched forward, ready to slip between the mangy creature and his Player at a moment’s notice.

“Indeed. Elsewhile, I have picked up a bit of news you might find intriguing, considering your mission.” The Judge stretched, moving to sit down. The Batter took his chance, moving between the pair. “I have heard from an old friend—” Who would be friends with you? “—that the shopping mall in the northern part of the of the city has fallen victim to ectoplasmic assaults…” Knew that already, fleabag. “Perhaps it would be wise for you to hurry on over there and illuminate it with your purifying light.” That was said with far too much sarcasm for the Batter’s liking, as the Judge watched him as he spoke. Mangy scum.

The Player laughed, the sound light. “That sounds like a fine plan, my friend.” Do not call that thing a friend. It did not deserve her admiration and regard in that manner. Or any manner, really. “We’ll do just that then.” Waving goodbye to the grinning feline, the Player slipped down the pink road toward the shopping mall. Dedan crossed his arms, tch-ing.

“Why are we listening ta what tha’ furball said? Seems like a fucking stupid idea.” The Batter bristled. While he may harbor no love for the Judge himself, Dedan’s questions of his Player was sacrilegious! How dare he presume to know better than her? The Player stopped ahead of them, looking at the plastic sea. It was oddly flat in color, no light reflecting off the waves.

“ _This being is known as The Batter,_ ” she began quietly. “ _You have been assigned to assist him._ ” The Batter froze. She was assigned to him, as he had been assigned to her? It felt…wrong, in a way, for someone to order one as pure as his Player around. “ _The Batter has a very important mission, be sure he accomplishes it. Zone 0 is his first destination. Good luck._ ” That was all they told her, before sending her here? The Batter trembled with rage. No information, no report, nothing for his Player to grasp onto for direction. They had tossed her into the deep end with no idea how to swim, it would seem. That just would not do. “ _For more information, find the one called ‘The Judge’._ ” The Batter relaxed himself forcefully, to avoid letting his Player see his disconcertion. But who were they, really? Who gave his Player her orders, and sent her into the cesspit that was this world?

The Player turned back to face them, eyes thoughtful. “That was what I was told coming into this world.” Dedan gave a thoughtful hum.

“So, some person, somewhere, told you tha’ listenin’ ta a grinning cat was tha’ best course a action in your quest to ‘purify’—” he gave air quotes here, “—the world? And you listened.” It was quiet, the lapping of plastic at the metal shore loud. Red spread across the Player’s face, as Dedan burst into loud guffaws and the Batter sighed.

“Well, when you put it like that!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A tad bit of levity to make up for chapter 15's extremely dark themes and the sheer amount of book text in 16. 
> 
> In other news, Phosphor-Sphere sent more [FanArt](https://lynxonsmoothies.tumblr.com/post/634778023290421248/the-wonderful-and-amazing-phosphor-sphere-has) <3 Send some love their way for it; they really captured the dynamic between Batter and Dedan.
> 
> Thank you all for your kudos, comments, bookmarks, and subscriptions.


	18. zone 2-17: REASSUME

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **WARNING: Rated R for Dedan and relatable situations.**

Why were malls always so abominably cold? The Player rubbed her arms quickly as she walked behind the Batter, Dedan’s military boots clomping loudly behind her. She waved to Zacharie as they passed his booth, heading deeper into the mall. The Batter flicked his wrists, twitchy around the knowing eyes of the merchant. But what could he know? Nothing, the fool could know nothing. Ignoring the man, he led the group into the next room. One end of the hall was completely blocked off, leaving only a single route open.

At least it was not a maze. Small favors, really.

Stepping toward the stairs, the Batter trailed his eyes over some of the ads plastered to walls haphazardly. There was one for metal floors, an apology for the deterioration of the mall, and… _pardon?_

_Welcome to Gomez Galleries! May nothing stop your frenetic consumerism._

…Well, at least they were rather blunt about it. The Batter shrugged off the oddity of the statement, keeping an eye on his Player as they moved down the stairs. She was his to protect and he had to be vigilant, especially with that parasite leeching energy from her **_~~and because he lost her earlier and hecouldhavelostherlostlostlostlOSt~~_**. What if she collapsed in this mall? He had to be careful. Reaching the bottom of the stairs, he paused. Dedan moved up next to him as the Player stepped into the room.

“Ah _hell no_. Fuck this shit!” Dedan’s expletives echoed in the maze of identical blue rooms and halls that stretched before them, ads drooping from their walls, fluttering the slight cool breeze. The Batter was inclined to agree. Those ads were the only difference he could see between the rooms, and after a brief moment, his Player confirmed his observation.

“This is definitely a maze.” She sighed, rubbing her face slightly. “Keep track of the ads; given the hint at the top of the stairs, I think those are our only chance at navigating this mess.” The Batter winced slightly. He was putting his Player through trauma and distress by making her accompany him on this quest. He was not worthy of her regard in that manner. He was such scum to inflict even his presence on her—which would undoubtedly continue, as he refused to leave her alone with the parasite.

_Handled carefully by the employees of zone 1, our meat is preservatives-free, guaranteed!_

The Batter casually ripped the ad down. It was worthless anyway; the whole zone was gone, **_purified_**. Nothing more would be coming out of there.

As they continued on, with only the sounds of distant footsteps and Dedan’s cursing to break the silence, the rooms began to blend together into a mess of boxes and ads.

_Our plastic chairs are specially designed without any dangerous edges._

What a claim to fame, that one.

The Batter swung his head back and forth between the rooms, searching for some differentiation—any difference at all would have been welcomed. Nothing but countless boxes and bottles filled the blue rooms. And giant hairless rats called Massu. Every time one got close—relatively so, as in the Massu was in the room with her, as the Batter would not allow one closer than that—the Player shivered slightly. It felt like oil on her soul.

_Seven bottles of smoke, for the price of six!_

That was barely a deal. A small exclamation from his Player drew his attention, and in turn, his bat. “I got it! So, those ads, which we already knew were the key to navigating this maze, are different! Ads that are detailed beyond basic images, like this one, are the ones we need to follow to reach the exit.” Dedan eyed her dubiously, and the Batter whacked his skull with his bat. His Player knew what she was talking about; clearly, she was wise enough to understand and figure out such a difficult puzzle. Dedan swiped at the Batter, just missing.

“For fucks sake, shitface!”

_Build your walls out of metal! In the event of an attack, their solidarity is assured!_

The Batter ignored Dedan, skimming the ad as they continued. Would it stand up to him? The Batter pondered this as the Player saved at one of the yellow boxes—she insisted that they were going the right way, and that this was a ‘checkpoint’. He took her at her word.

_The Gomez Galleries offer you a large variety of boxes full of metal and plastic._

The Player eyed one of the mannequins they passed, moving to put the Batter between it and her. Something about those always creeped her out. The Batter swelled with pride, sneering at Dedan victoriously. Once again, he was proven to be the superior protector.

_Gomez Luck Tickets are manufactured and tested by specialists._

“Tha’ fuck? They have specialists for tickets?” The Batter snorted, eyeing the parasite with disdain. Of course they did. This world was full of redundant positions and corruption. Why would some piece of filth not take the opportunity to earn a little more? “Tha’ woulda never flown in zone 1. I ran a tight ship, no waste!”

The Player’s walk stuttered for a moment. “You mentioned that there was more of zone 1 than what I got to see. I imagine there would have been more residents as well, so it must have been hard keeping all of it in line.” She was digging a bit, trying to get some more information. It sat badly with her that she had only seen a tiny portion of zone 1 before…

“Well, I had my Peace Keepers patrol. They kept everything running according to tha’ laws.” He took a clawed hand and rubbed his neck. “At tha’ end there, I had ta keep cracking down on the illegal bars. No alcohol in tha’ Main District. Tha’ lil’ shits were lazy enough as it was.” The Player furrowed her brows, choosing not to respond. It sounded like Dedan ran a military state, almost.

_Depressed? Try Modestia!_

He’ll pass on that one. He was not depressed, just realistic.

_Because life is so short… Try our Jokers!_

“Hey, I found a Monday!”

Endless blue rooms passed, with no noticeable difference—except one storeroom, in which a lost Elsen had taken shelter. While the Player questioned it, Dedan lit up a cigar and began puffing as he watched the interaction, and the Batter sat down on a crate, wiping black goo from his bat. Damn Massu.

“I’m lost…” The Elsen whispered, rubbing its hands together either in worry or out of the cold, which had been increasing. “I could make a fire with the boxes… to ward off the ghosts… but… that would be dangerous.” Less dangerous than the ghosts would be, but hey, what did the Batter care if some useless little meatdoll got itself killed? One less he had to deal with. Moving on, the group continued into the freezing mall. The Player could see her breath as the air grew colder. There was no breath cloud from either the Batter or Dedan.

_Our mannequins are certified sharp-edge free, and there-fore will not be hazardous to your health._

That sounded far too much like foreshadowing for the Player’s liking, and she sped up. That had better not be foreshadowing. She would flip out if one of these things started moving.

_Got time to lose? Visit the Unproductive, please._

Room after blue room passed before it began to get warmer and they encountered another soul. A familiar chuckle echoed from a room up ahead, and the Batter sighed. Again with this trash.

The Judge was examining an advertisement for cat food, smirking decorously. “Is not this publicity so effective and efficient whilst defying the basics of consumer marketing?” The cat commented, tilting his head toward the Player. She gave a slight nod.

“I think it would, if perhaps it wasn’t hidden so far back into this maze of a store.” The Judge chuckled, flicking his tail and examining the ad again. The Batter glared at the ad.

“For silkier hair; the meat fountains of Alma,” his tone was flat as he read this. Unbelievable. The Judge glanced at him.

“Oh, you can read?” The Batter bristled, as the Judge dismissed him in favor of once again addressing the Player. Dedan chortled. “Anyway, I am glad to have found you. Maybe you can help me unravel the mystery that fate has placed before me.” The Judge’s grin shrank a bit, the Player listening attentively.

“It turns out that my brother has been living in this area for many years. He has a special affinity for colours of the cool kind.” The Judge flicked his tail. “Unfortunately, I have so far failed to cross his path. I have tried to betake myself to the roof of the library, where he resides. However, I found the door closed. Even the long hours intensive, repeated meowing and compulsive scratching did not do a thing.” Yes, because if the Batter had heard that, he would want to open the door to let you in, you stupid vermin. “My request is as follows: If at the bend of a corridor you happen to see Valerie, give him my greetings.”

“Got it. See you later, Judge.” The Player moved off to leave the room, the Batter staring at the cat. He tightened his grip on his bat, grinding his teeth. It would be so easy to rid himself of this mangy menace, but alas, not today. Soon though, he thought, relaxing his grip.

“Hey, fucktard! Let’s move already.” Dedan’s deep screech dragged the Batter away from his murderous inclinations and had him following his Player—and the parasite—deeper into the store. Or so he thought. The next door was the entrance to the mall, and the trio found themselves standing exactly back where they started.

“Well, this is fucking stupid shit,” Dedan complained, chewing on his cigar. The Batter silently agreed.

“No look,” the Player pointed. “A Pedalo recovery point. Remember the missing path to the amusement park? Maybe it will call one over to where the bridge used to be.”

* * *

The Player was correct. Unfortunately, Pedalos were designed for two maximum, and the fit for two overly tall, muscular males and one petiter female was tight. As in, it was not happening.

“Look, I’ll just sit on the back of the Pedalo. As long as you guys don’t rock it too badly, I’ll be fine.” The Player moved to sit on the back of the Pedalo. Two large hands, one clawed and one pure white, grasped her shoulders tightly.

“No way _in_ hell.”

“Unacceptable.”

The Player tossed her hand up in the air. “Then what do you two suggest? Cause it’s either this, or I sit on your laps!” She blushed slightly at the thought of sitting on the two well-built males’ laps. Clearly, they would never go for the idea. The Batter held too much animosity toward Dedan to let him touch her so freely, and Dedan would be far too grabby to let her sit only partially on him. She would get her way, and not embarrass herself.

Silence.

“Oh fuck yes _please._ ”

“Acceptable.”

Well, fuck her then.

The Player ended up sitting on top of the both of them, one leg tossed over each. The Batter ignored the swell of pleasure and pain he felt at the continued contact _it burned so good, his skin crawling and writhing_ and punched Dedan when his hands got a little too close to his Player. He was letting the parasite have the privilege of his Player on his lap; he was pushing it with anything else.

The Player was sitting stiffly, a ferocious blush across her cheeks. She had never been so glad that she was shorter than her companions; from their height and position, they couldn’t see the glow from her face. She fought a sputter as Dedan shifted, groaning a bit. _Do not acknowledge._ She was also making a distinct effort to not notice how both of them had a hand floating just off her waist, ready to "steady" her. She believed it from the Batter, not from Dedan.

As they floated over to the island, the Player looked out at the seemingly endless sea of plastic. “I wonder if there is anything over there…there must be, otherwise we wouldn’t have access to this Pedalo.” The Batter glanced over, noting the small splotch of purple on the periwinkle sea. An island, far out in the plastic waves; how odd.

“I see an island,” he informed her, hand twitching at her waist. They detoured over to the island. Nothing much of note about it, other than a small chest containing a Min-Woo tunic, so they swiftly made their way back to the main island Dedan had indicated. The island itself was just an entry point to an under-plastic tunnel that traveled for a ways.

“This zone is much more structurally advanced compared to the other two,” the Player mused, climbing the stairs behind the Batter. Dedan snorted, flexing his muscles as he stretched. The Pedalo had been far too cramped.

“Yeah, Japhet was always a sucker for big buildings an’ high rises, birdbrain tha’ he was. He made it a point ta integrate tha’ inta his initial founding. His Main District is fulla them too.” He came up behind the Player, who had stopped at the top of the stairs. Before her lay a maze of fences and balloons, leading up to a giant building with a sign proudly proclaiming PARK. Moving forward, the Batter poked a balloon. It burst loudly, causing him to jump and scowl. Dedan laughed.

“Wha’, scared of a fuckin’ balloon ya pansy?” That was it. As the Batter went to go beat Dedan to a pulp, the Player moved to inspect the balloon. Inside the tattered rubber remains was a Fortune Ticket. Picking it up and slipping it into the inventory, the Player looked at her companions. The Batter was trying to smash Dedan’s face through a fence as the General clawed at the Batter’s arms. She sighed, moving through the line toward the building.

If there was an _actual_ amusement park up ahead, she was not waiting for them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So like, bookmarks v. subscriptions. Do those of you who don't subscribe just pop in occasionally and check if it's been updated? What is the plan there?
> 
> Anywho, some fluff in preparation for the coming not fluff. And we reached over 100 kudos last chapter! Thank you everyone for your continued support! I honestly wasn't expecting this much, given how long it has been since OFF came out. Hope you all will stick around as this story continues.


	19. file slot 2: DEDAN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DEDAN (Ruler[s] of my Soul)
> 
> Classification: Canon-to-RESTART, Non-Canonical-to-Original-OFF, Might-Have-Been-If-Dedan-Lived
> 
> Time Frame: zone 2-16
> 
> Location: CS2
> 
> RATED: T

_Who holds your allegiance, Dedan? The Queen, or the Player?_

The Queen… No, this filthy feline was lying. There was no way the Queen would ever… Would she? No, he had to believe. She wouldn't lie to him, not to her General.

Dedan sat at the bottom of the stairs in the library, puffing on a cigar. Screw being polite to Japhet, he needed it right now. The Queen… she knew he fought against the spectres. Hell, he had sent her reports weekly, and discussed with her measures to protect his zone! She wouldn't send more…she wouldn't send any! It was a lie. He took another drag, eyes fixed on the Player. She was taking a quick drink from a bottle in her hand, carefully keeping away from the shelves.

And then there was her. She had saved him—after damning him, granted—and seemed to truly be trying to do her best for the zones. He cracked a grin. She reminded him of the Queen. Both were so idealistic, so naively trusting of those under them. However, unlike the Queen, the Player's underling actively plotted against her and led her astray, hid information from her. She had honestly thought that the Old District was the whole of zone 1.

He snorted. The Batter... he took a deep drag on his cigar, letting the smoke curl from his clenched teeth. Fucked up in the head, that guy… if he was a guy. Something about how the Batter moved, how he talked, how he simply existed set Dedan on edge. It reminded him too much of BEFORE. He rolled his head, stretching his neck. That wasn't even bringing in what he saw the Batter _do_ to that Elsen. Don't get him wrong, he wasn't torn up about the death of a worthless Elsen, but how it went. 

**_It reminded him of how he used to be._ **

Dedan bit the cigar in half, standing up and snuffing it out with his boot. In any case, he was bound to the Player now not the Queen. He had to obey the Player now, not the Queen. Moving to stand by her side as they strode out of the library, he contemplated how things had turned out. All in all, could have been a lot worse, he figured. Dedan stubbornly ignored the little voice in his head, reminding him of how _things were_. How things had been _**before.**_ He shoved the voice away, narrowing his eyes as the Player spoke with a grinning cat, and made a snarky comment, one he did not remember.

No, the Player was different. The Queen was different. They weren't like himself. They would never make the choices he had, the decisions he had. And things were different now, he told himself, as they walked away from the feline. He inquired as to why they listened to the cat, and grew incredulous at the answer.

When he said as much, the Player's face grew bright red, and Dedan felt the worries melt away as he laughed. She wasn't like that, see? He could feel that she was pure, and he could see that she was good.

Things were different now, remember?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a brief look at Dedan. He's a little conflicted over what's happening, and we get some hints that he's got a past (surprising no one). Interested in more of Dedan's backstory? More will be eventually posted here, but those same file slots are available over at Corrupted Save right now! If you're okay with spoilers, feel free to pop over and read those :)
> 
> IF YOU MISSED IT, THIS IS PART OF A DOUBLE UPDATE. THERE WAS A NEW CHAPTER BEFORE THIS ONE.


	20. file slot 3: BATTER

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BATTER (Once a King)
> 
> Classification: Pre-Canon-to-RESTART, Canon-Timeline-to-RESTART, Pre-Canon-to-Original-OFF, Non-Canon-to-Original-OFF
> 
> Time Frame: ? ? ?
> 
> Location: CS11
> 
> RATED: G

_The road to Hell is paved with good intentions. You’re in Hell. What were your intentions?_

There was once a King, who ruled a prosperous kingdom of foolish creatures. They were not people, not like the King, nor like the Queen, nor even like the Son, but they had the potential to be. They only needed time and care to become more.

The King was a gentle ruler, lending an ear to his subjects’ concerns and supporting their dreams. He was beloved. The Queen was a generous soul, providing for the subjects anything they could desire. She was admired. The Son was magnanimous, granting the subjects opportunities to better themselves, to change. He was treasured.

~~The King was drowning in his subjects’ petty concerns and impossible dreams.~~

~~The Queen was desperate for love, taken for granted by her subjects for all she granted them.~~

~~The Son was disheartened, none of his subjects desiring to change, to be more.~~

Each desired only the best for their subjects and realm. The King sought solutions for his subjects, ways to grant them their dreams. He sought knowledge lost, and knowledge yet to be gained. Scouring the kingdom, he found no solution that suited his subjects. Reaching to other kingdoms, he found no solution his subjects accepted. Searching the stars, he found no solution his subjects believed. Ages of his search passed, the weight of his subjects’ pressing upon him greater and greater,

~~The King listened, but did he care?~~

~~The Queen gave, but did she receive?~~

~~The Son wanted change, but could he?~~

A whisper reached the King’s ears, of an end to his search. At the bottom of the sea was rumored to be an item which would grant an answer to any question. Desperate to end his search, the King scoured the seas himself, a task which took him years.

At the bottom of the sea, the King found it. A cube of red, weightless and bright. Stealing the item from its place in the cold waters, the King hid it away in his palace. In the depths of his domain, the King asked for the solution to his subjects’ problems. He received an answer.

**::Only something with a ____ can have dreams.**

**::Only something with a ____ can have desires.**

**::Only something with a ____ can resist change.**

The King could not bear it. It was knowledge, yes, but a burdensome one. He had asked powers greater than himself, and received answers so terrible that he struggled under their magnitude. How could he bring himself to answer their dreams and desires this way?

The King hid what he had learned, tossing the cube back to the seas. For years he sat upon his knowledge, listening to his subjects’ as they burdened him with their thoughts and dreams.

The pressure of his subjects’ problems and the weight of the solution were too much for the King. He started to crack. If it would answer his subjects’ problems, why should he not? If it would stop their foolish desires, why should he falter? If it would change their feeble minds, why would he wait?

~~The King just wanted it all to stop.~~

~~The Queen just wanted to matter.~~

~~The Son just wanted to help.~~

So, the King made a choice.

Slipping into the darkest depths of his kingdom in the night, he steeled himself for what he had decided. One of his subjects stumbled across the King wrapped in a cloak of shadows and lies, and asked as to the King’s purpose.

The King used the answer, and took what was not freely given. The King left that morning both more and less than he was. What he left behind was not his subject, but two halves of a whole.

Each night, the King slipped from his palace to perform his duty, and each morning he returned both more and less than he was. Each night, he took more than he was offered, and each morning he drew his cloak of lies tighter around himself. Each night, he grew colder, and each morning he went to listen to his subjects. Each night, something grew on the horizon, and each morning it swallowed more of the world outside the kingdom.

As so it was that one morning, what the light touched was no longer the King, but a monster cloaked in a false skin of lies. The monster listened to his subjects, and every night solved their problems. With each problem he solved, the monster changed in form and the skin of lies stretched further.

~~The King was lost.~~

~~The Queen was empty.~~

~~The Son was unknowing.~~

It was when the world was almost no more to what grew in the night, that the masked man came. He spoke of what he had seen beyond the boundaries of the kingdom. He offered to build barriers between what crept and the kingdom. The monster agreed, and the masked man separated out the world into two parts: the pieces of what remained, and the nothingness. In return for his service, the masked man was offered a place in the monster’s kingdom.

However, the masked man felt no satisfaction. There was something about the kingdom that felt wrong, and the masked man wished to know what. The masked man began to observe the kingdom. He observed how the nothingness grew stronger each night. He observed the Queen’s struggles to provide for her subjects. He observed the Son’s desire to aid his subjects. He observed the monster slip back into the palace come morning, and listen to his subjects speak.

The masked man could see the Queen was faltering, unloved and alone. He could see the Son shed tears, unable to help and alone. He could see the monster sit upon his throne, unmoved by the words of his subjects. The masked man grew suspicious of the monster, seeing the cracks in the lies he wore.

So when night fell and the monster slipped from his palace, the masked man followed. And when he saw the monster’s duties, he fled back to the palace. He told the Queen what he had seen, he warned the Son what he had found.

~~There was no King.~~

~~The Queen refused to see.~~

~~The Son was unable to understand.~~

Come morning, the masked man confronted the monster on his throne. He told the monster that he had seen what the monster did at night. The monster’s skin of lies snapped, revealing his true form of corruption and despair. The masked man recoiled and drew his sword.

The masked man entreated the monster to stop his actions, to leave the remains of his subjects and realm to peace. _“Wretched monarch, leave this land in peace, or perish at the tip of my blade.”_

The monster sat upon his throne, snarling at the masked man. Terrible fangs gnashed at the man, and leathered skin stretched over giant limbs. The monster stood to tower over the man, his shadow cast as empty as the nothingness outside the barriers the man had built. _“I am the King, and you are my subject. You are not to go against my will.”_

The two fought, a clash of claws and steel. Days passed in conflict, the pair equally matched. Eventually, the masked man stumbled and was struck. He lost his mask, and fled the kingdom, leaving it to the clutches of the monster. However, the lies that the monster had used were broken, leaving him bare to the eyes of those in his kingdom. So taking the mask of the man, the monster wore it to hide from the gazes of his subjects.

_~~The masked man swore to return.~~ _

_~~The monster~~ _ _~~laughed upon his throne.~~ _

_~~The Queen was forced to see.~~ _

_~~The Son was imprisoned.~~ _

And so the kingdom continued for a time, the nothingness growing each night as the monster performed his duties, until he turned his attention to the Queen and the Son.

_ The rest of the story is missing. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No one starts out evil, not even monsters.
> 
> Normally I wouldn't post two file slots back-to-back like this, but as I am currently very busy with finals, the actual chapter isn't quite ready and won't be for a couple weeks. Hopefully this will tide you all over!


	21. zone 2-18: RENEGADE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **WARNING: Rated Mature for cursing and not particularly graphic violence. Less than normal, anyway.**

The Batter stood behind the Player, poking at the holes in his tatter tunic, pale skin flashing through the rips. Dedan was busy resetting his jaw as the Player talked to several of the Elsen in the area. To be honest, none of them had anything particularly interesting to say, so he wasn’t listening closely, just enough to ensure they weren’t a threat to his precious Player. Putting a finger through a slash in his tunic, the Batter felt a familiar twinge in his stomach.

Hunger.

But it was so soon after his last feeding, so it couldn’t be. It wouldn’t make sense… Looking at the twitching, wheezing Elsen, the Batter’s stomach gave a painful wrench. No, he most certainly was hungry. So so so sosososo hungry. Glancing down at his Player, who was happily chatting away with the Elsen in front of her, the Batter felt saliva pool in his mouth. It would only take a moment, a second of her distraction…

Giving a wave, his Player skipped over to the next Elsen, who looked quite disconcerted. The Batter paid only minimal attention to the conversation, eyes fixed on the fidgeting Elsen the Player had just left. Dedan finally popped his jaw back into place, sauntering up to the Batter.

“Tha’ hells up with ya, asshat?” The Batter snarled at him, stalking off to lean against the wall near the entrance they had come through. Dedan scoffed, but watched him closely. When the Batter continued to watch the Player, not meeting the general’s gaze, he sneered. Fine, the fucker could be that way. Moving over to the Player, Dedan caught an interesting conversation.

“Perhaps the room that lies beyond this door will cease to exist if I enter…” the Elsen clenched its hands anxiously. “…And then I would fall endlessly into an abyss, which in itself does not even exist. What a terribly frightening thought! I should probably stay here!” Dedan was prepared to crack a joke at the pathetic thing’s expense when he saw the Player’s face. He stopped dead.

Her eyes were flat.

“Well, that is a very real possibility here, isn’t it?” Her mumbled question was clearly not meant to be heard, let alone answered, so Dedan kept quiet as she moved away. His shoulders were tight, watching her stumble a bit, her mind not on her feet. How interesting…and disconcerting. Dedan realized this was the first time he had ever seen anything other than mild exasperation or quiet patience—and some dismay/embarrassment—on the Player’s face. Now, what could have caused that reaction? Moving to follow her, Dedan tossed one last look at the Batter. He stood unmoving by the entrance, forgotten by the Player in her mild haze, his eyes piercing on her smaller form. Seriously, what the fuck was with him?

The Batter noted their departure, turning his eyes his Player, to his m e a l . The Elsen that had dared to address his perfect, pure Player so informally shuffled over to the doorway that lead to the entrance, oblivious to the presence of a predator, watching it like the dumb shit prey that it was.

This was his chance. _He was so hungry._

Lunging forward, the Batter grabbed the by its face, dragging it out of the hub with his hand over its’ mouth. It struggled, its cries muffled beneath the Batter’s puncturing grasp. Tossing it over the fenced railing, the Batter **_laughed_**. He watched as the Elsen stumbled and sobbed, its tender skin bruised and split like an overripe tomato, red spilling on pink ground. He continued laughing, almost carefree as he sung his bat out and jumped the fence. Standing over the quivering Elsen, gleeful laughter rang out as it struggled to crawl away from its’ assaulter. He smashed its legs like wet twigs, the sound like soggy cardboard as the Elsen gave a choked screech. It was being too loud, and he was taking too long.

Dropping his bat to clatter against the metal ground, the Batter grasped his own skin. He tore it away in strips, muzzle stretching from his face and snapping his bones. _Hurt so good._ Claws piercing the skin of the Elsen’s face, the Batter forced its’ head back to display its’ vulnerable throat. Teeth crunched through the cartilage and bone like wet newspaper, slurping and crackling filling the air as he began to eat **feast _consume._** Even lost to the haze of his hunger, the Batter was careful to keep the blood from staining his clothing as he ate, remembering he lacked any additional on him. He smiled, licking the fluid from his muzzle. So delicious _not as delicious as her_ and filling.

He took a deep breath, breathing in the smell of blood and the stench of fear as he donned his cloak of lies. He lifted the head still in his hand, watching as its’ mouth moved slightly. At least these worthless things had some benefit, he mused, tossing the head out into the plastic sea. After washing his hands of the filth’s blood _but not the **sin, never the sin that stained his soul like tar and dust that bound the trash together**_ the Batter slipped back inside. Not a single Elsen had noticed the demise of their brethren. Useless, blind worms that they were, it was unsurprising to the Batter. Stalking out of the central lobby, the Batter easily slid into place next to his wonderful Player, checking her over for injuries.

He was so selfish, such worthless scum. To feed his own desires, he had left her alone, staining his soul with muck and darkness, and then he had the sheer _gall_ to dare to come back into her presence with his sins so fresh. He had to though, he had to feed or he would give in to his growing desires. He would not darken her purity with his touch, he would refrain from meddling with her soul **_her mind_**. He had to satiate his hunger—

No.

_He was still **h u n g r y.**_

Why was he still hungry? He had just fed. He should not still be hungry. Looking at the abundance of Elsen in the area, the Batter didn’t bother to stop the terrible smirk that grew on his face. There was no lack of fodder for his snacking pleasure, but should he? He had already stained himself with sin and scum, and brought himself back into the presence of pure innocence and light. Could he be as selfish as to do it again? And again? And again again again again?

**_Why was he so hungry?_ **

* * *

The Player was baffled, the Batter could tell. To be perfectly fair, the idiotic behavior of this particularly gutless group of Elsen was… impressive. They were clutching their chairs, shivering in fright as absolutely _nothing happened_. Nothing at all. The chairs were just sitting there.

Be still his soiled heart, the drama.

His Player sighed, rubbing a hand over her face. “I… I can’t even begin to address this, let alone understand it. I really can’t.” Dedan chortled as she moved away, pinching the bridge of her nose. She paused, staring beyond a fence to a blocked off path.

“Um, excuse me!” She called out to a nearby Elsen, who perked up at her call. The Batter sneered. Filth. **_h u n g r y_** “What’s down that way?” The Elsen looked over, recoiling in an excessive flinch from the blocked path. Dedan rolled his eyes, and the Batter was hard pressed not to do the same. Honestly, these little shits were pathetic.

“This is the way to the old…” It whipped its head around, as if checking for eavesdroppers. “…Roller Coaster.” The Player stood straighter. Roller Coaster? “It closed down before it was even completed.” Oh. Dedan snickered, clicking his teeth together in his amusement.

“’Ey, sweetheart. I bet there’s a way ta get around this fence somewhere in tha’ park.” The Batter smashed his fist into Dedan’s face. How dare he try and get his Player to do something so vilely unsafe!? It was closed before it was finished—the track was probably incomplete, the materials unstable! Honestly, the stupidity that poured from the parasite’s mouth was vast.

“Ya little shit!” Dedan tackled him, the duo rolling into the chairs and knocking them over. The Elsen screamed in terror, clutching their chairs tighter as the two brawling males grew closer to them—though, to the Elsen, there was simply one large male rolling towards them aggressively. The Player just stared, eyes distant. What had happened to the calm, collected Batter she had started this journey with? The intimidating, aggressive Dedan she had met in zone 1?

Well, he was still aggressive, at least.

She sighed as the duo knocked another chair over, causing a faint-hearted Elsen to…faint. Right. She left that Batter behind when she picked up Dedan. Sparing the pair a glance, the Player was glad neither of them could see the blush on her face.

Darn well-built men wrestling on the ground, reminding her she was into men. Made things so much more difficult.

Opting to leave them both behind, she back-tracked to the main hub. There was a path to her left and one straight ahead, both of them unexplored. She considered them for a moment, ignoring the continued panicked wheezing and screams of the Elsen behind her, before choosing to go left. Leaving the hub, which felt…emptier than it had been previously, she emerged to a sea of red balloons. Okay, well, not a sea per se, but 13 balloons was more than the average balloons she had seen before. On the far side of the balloons, an Elsen waited.

“Play, play, play the Balloon Game!” It gave her a hesitant smile at the end of its pitch. “If… If you win, you get the grand prize.” It scuffed its foot against the ground, looking away from her. “But… But if you lose, you might be sad. So… uh… be careful.” That was adorable.

“Sounds like fun! I’ll play.” The Elsen stood up a bit straighter. It had a Job To Do!

Giving a wheeze, it metaphorically dove in. “Okay… Here are the rules. It’s easy. When it’s your turn, you can choose to pop one, two, or three balloons.” It gestured faintly with its hands. “When it’s my turn, I’ll do the same. The one who’s left with the last balloon loses the game.” It paused, giving a cough. “Do you understand?”

The Player nodded, looking at the balloons. “I got it. Let’s play!” The Elsen blushed a bit at her enthusiasm. It was so refreshing to have someone so excited!

“Okay, I’ll start first.” It popped three balloons and motioned to her. She popped one, then it popped one, she three, then it three, then her one. The Elsen stared at the remaining balloon, drooping. “I… I… I’ve lost…” It began to shake. The Player backed up a couple of steps. Uh oh. “No… That’s impossible… I have been cheating from the start…” It glared at her with watery black eyes. “You cheated!” It shouted, pointing a wavering finger at her. “You bear me much ill will!”

The Player stared at the enraged Elsen in amused disbelief. Okay then, just come out and admit you were cheating then. Then its head ripped off as it dove at her, black sludge spouting from the open neck as tentacles violently writhed around. She was very quickly less amused as she shot to the side, rolling back into a crouch.

Well.

Shoot.

Glancing around, the Player realized there was nothing around her that she could use to defend herself with. The area was barren of anything beyond the balloons. Turning back to the former Elsen, who had reoriented itself to face her, the Player felt a twinge of fear. She had been relying on the Batter to defend her, but he wasn’t here.

What was she going to do?

_Zwwwiiiinnnnng!_

A flash of white out of the corner of her eye and the Player suddenly had reinforcements. It was Alpha, whizzing around like a bladed Frisbee, vibrating and buzzing like an angry wasp. The Player took the moment to flip down her visor and scan the Elsen manually. She hated doing this, made her feel sluggish, as it used her own energy instead of the easily recovered CP of the Batter.

_Valzong-burnt (x1)_

_Resident of Bismark with inappropriate manners._

_HP: 350 / CP: 20_

_No weakness/resistance._

Oh, helpful.

Watching Alpha whiz around and basically create paper cuts, the Player could easily see it wasn’t enough. “Alpha!” She shouted at the little ring, hoping that it understood. The Batter had been the one in charge of the Add-Ons previously, she had no idea if she could communicate with them, let alone command them. “Herd it into the plastic!” Alpha gave no indication it heard her, and the Player fought the urge to swear.  
Then the former Elsen took a step back. Then another. Then another, and another, and another. Relief rushed through the Player, curling in her chest. Alpha had heard her and understood. Soon the former Elsen stood at the edge, Alpha unable to get it to go further. She hesitated, looking at the sooty form. It wasn’t alive anymore; it was corrupted, like the others. This wasn’t going to be killing it. She was just… The Player rushed forward, shoving the former Elsen, its body flailing as it fought gravity. It was a losing battle, and the Elsen fell into the pink waves, unable to swim. Its body sunk beneath the surface, as its head gasped behind the Player.

“Oh… I see…” Then it was gone, melting away into a sooty sludge. Near the puddle was the black tie the Elsen had worn, untied. Picking up the tie, the Player moved out of the balloon area. Standing just inside the hub, she looked down at the sludge on her hands and the tie, Alpha floating behind her shoulder. It nudged her shoulder, and she looked back at it as it hovered there, bobbing.

“I-I’m okay. I just… I just…” She trailed off, the Add-On bumping her cheek as she looked down at her hands again.

What had she done?

* * *

Something was wrong. The Batter shoved the waste of space off of him, snarling as he brushed himself off, eyes darting around the area. Where was his Player? He could feel her, just beyond, but he couldn’t see her. She wasn’t supposed to wander off, he would have to make sure she knew that. But he could feel her, rippling and warm and… _what was that?_ There was something on her, in her, that didn’t belong.

Had something happened? Had something happened? Had Something Happened? _Had Something **Happened?**_

Moving quickly, the Batter crossed the hub to the opposite exit, following the feel of his Player. Through the door was a river of plastic, with a Pedalo call sign. The Player was standing near the river looking down at the plastic, still. He relaxed slightly. She looked fine, even if her hands were slightly red. He darted forward, ignoring her startled flinch from him. He had startled her, that was all. **_That was all._** Daring to grasp her hands with his own, he brought them up to examine. Minor abrasions. Nothing serious, but the sight of them filled him with rage.

And failure.

He had been so preoccupied with the parasite, with _Dedan_ , that he had allowed his perfect, pure Player to sustain damage. What kind of guardian failed in such a manner? Trash. Trashtrashtrash _tr **ashtrashtrash! He HaD TO be BEttEr.**_ He had to be, or she would pick Dedan, and leave him and he would never complete his mission and he would be scum failure _trash **worth lessFILTH.**_

The Player pulled her hands away, giving a light laugh. He wanted to keep holding them, but he was unworthy. He knew that. He would never be worthy, not even after the completion of his quest. “Hey, it’s nothing! Just tripped is all.” The Batter watched her as she moved over to the Pedalo point. Moving his awareness out again, he probed her. The strange feeling was gone from her, no sour darkness edging the bits of her aura he dared to touch. He moved after her, dismissing it as he watched the ground to ensure there was nothing to trip his Player. After all, she had said she had tripped, and she wouldn’t lie to him.

Dedan stood in the doorway, watching the Player move nervously away from the Batter. He lit a cigar, giving it a puff before moving to stand behind her without a word. He eyed how Alpha slipped back onto the Batter’s wrist, the purifier none-the-wiser. He wasn’t going to say anything.

After all, the Batter was lying to her. Why couldn’t she lie once to him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, I would like to thank everyone for your well-wishes regarding finals! I get my grades back in two weeks, so we will see. Fingers crossed! Second, huge shoutout to my laptop for making it through finals before unexpectedly dying, the additional delay was from that. Please thank it in the comments, really all-star of it. Third, Phosphor-Sphere on Tumblr has again presented me with glorious [fanart!](https://lynxonsmoothies.tumblr.com/post/639069944902008832/is-the-amazing-talented-phosphor-sphere) The Player super wishes this one was canon, but alas.
> 
> Thank you everyone for reading, and I hope you continue to enjoy the story.


	22. zone 2-19: RESTRAINT

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Warning: Rated M for Dedan's mouth.**

The Batter loomed over the Elsen in front of him, watching it twitch nervously and avoid his eyes. His Player was standing beside him, trying to peer behind the Elsen into the room it was blocking. It shifted again, starting to sweat a little under the Batter’s gaze. He narrowed his eyes. Scum.

“Th…This is the boss’s office. I… I cannot let you enter. U… Unless… Maybe you know him personally?” The Elsen continued to fidget under the Batter’s gaze, refusing to let the Player peek into the office behind him. Dedan snorted behind them, kicking his boot against the metal ground.

“Pansy.” Tactless and crude, but ultimately not wrong.

“But… without proof, I cannot… I might get in trouble…” The Player tilted her head, giving a hum of thought. The Batter simply blinked, leaning down slightly to shadow the Elsen. How dare this Elsen deny anything to its better, to a pure specimen like his Player? Utterly worthless, daring to dream above its place in life. It was only by the grace of his gentle, pure, perfect Player that this filth lived.

_He Was Hungry._

“If that’s the case, then we’ll just have to come back later.” The Player turned to face the plastic gently lapping behind her. “…which means another Pedalo trip.” She cast her gaze between her two companions. Dedan’s giant fanged grin spread even further, while the Batter looked away from her and shifted.

“Fuck yeah!” The Batter held back a sigh, and shoved the moron into the plastic river. Filth should hold his tongue if all he was going to do was spill more filth. Imbecile.

Dedan erupted from the plastic, snarling. He wrapped his claws around the Batter’s ankle and dragged him into the plastic with him. “Shithead!” The Player sighed, sitting down on the ground.

“I’m not sitting on you both while you’re wet.” Dedan paused from trying to shove the Batter’s head under the fluid to waggle his brows at her. He got a fist to the face for his troubles.

* * *

The Pedalo trip didn’t take long, even accounting for the delay to allow the pair to dry off. There were motors beneath the plastic waves to guide them along, like a tunnel ride. They did keep stopping periodically for the Player to scramble off the Pedalo and grab a chest. The Batter had to resort to punching Dedan every time she did, due to his innate urge to moan at the sensation of the Player crawling over him. Not Dedan’s urge, the Batter’s—he needed a distraction. The Batter was greatly conflicted, however. Was he glad the ride was over, as both he and the parasite were unworthy to desecrate her skin? Was he upset, as he was no longer touching her? He had no right. He was beneath her, his perfect, pure Player. His skin rippled slightly.

Yes.

He was corrupted, stained. Nothing like her. However, he missed the burn his flesh felt at her touch, the ache that ripped his ruined soul at the purity that he could feel in her presence.

Standing back where they started the Pedalo ride, the Player sighed. “Well, while that was nice for collecting items, we didn’t make any headway into the park.” Standing quietly for a moment, she shrugged. “I guess we should give the park one last run through, see if we missed anything the first time.” How wise of his Player, to cover ground once more, ensuring nothing escaped her.

The Batter threw his arm out, stopping his Player. It was loud. Why was it loud? He cast a glance at Dedan, who had moved up to stand close behind the Player. Drawing his bat, he moved quickly into the central lobby, ready to swing. Dedan held the Player back a way, keeping space between the Batter and themselves. Inside the lobby, the previously catatonic Elsen were sprinting about in a panic, screaming. “Spectres! Spectres in the park!” The raspy screaming rose above the noise, which the Batter identified as metal grinding.

Dedan let smoke curl from between his teeth, rolling his cigar in his mouth. “Spectres? Huh, I guess Japhet really is lettin’ tha’ place go ta shit. Can’t blame tha’ fucker, dealing with these shits musta been exhausting.” He puffed on his cigar again, pulling it from his mouth to pinch between two clawed fingers. “Oh wait, I would know huh? Fucking lazy ass bird.”

The Batter rushed back and grabbed his Player by her upper arm, pushing through the crowd of Elsen to the other side, dragging her behind him. He released her as soon as he could, ignoring the building desire to keep his fingers on her. Why had he done that? He grabbed her, dragged her behind him. He shook his head lightly, readying his bat again. He could not afford to think about that now, he had to focus. There were possibly Spectres in the park. He would reflect on his despicable actions later.

However, as the Batter looked around, he realized he couldn’t see any Spectres, only Elsen running about panicking. The grinding noise had vanished as well, leaving only the screams of the Elsen to fill the space. Still tense, the Batter inspected the area. Nothing caught his attention.

“Hey,” the Player’s voice was quiet, but the Batter heard her. He always heard her. “The fence blocking the roller coaster is gone.” So it was. Putting his bat away, the Batter allowed his Player to move past him taking the new route. He kept close to her side, ignoring how Dedan snickered behind him. Parasite had no right to mock him not when he himself was attached to his Player like a leech. Which he was.

The path split into two paths, the first to a platform on the left, the other an endless expanse of stairs. They went left first, coming to what looked to be the end of the rollercoaster. There was a small booth, an Elsen manning it with wheezing breathes.

“Who are you? I thought the Roller Coaster had been closed down…” The Player looked at it funny, the Batter doing the same. Dedan just looked resigned. There was no point in questioning the logic of an Elsen, but really. Why was it still here then? “If you ride it, you have the right to get a photo.” The Player nodded, thanked the Elsen, and went back to the stairs, the Batter close behind. Dedan stood there for a moment, thinking as he snuffed the stub of his cigar under his boot.

For all his joking, Japhet was not the type to give up on his zone. He was far from lazy, almost frenetic in his work, and idealistic to a fault. So, what had happened? Spectres were everywhere, a strange cat was claiming to be him, the Elsen were even more pathetic than the ones from his zone, paralyzed with paranoia… it was strange. Something must have happened to that fucking turkey. Moving after the Player, Dedan let his fingers twitch to pull out another cigar, but refrained.

What had happened here?

The Player sprinted up the stairs to the top of the rollercoaster. “I have a theory,” she huffed a bit at the exertion, “that we have to ride the rollercoaster if we want to continue on—” “Sweetheart, that makes no sense.” “—so hurry up!” While Dedan protested her logic, the Batter simply agreed with her. He may not enjoy the idea of his precious Player riding such an unsafe contraption, but his Player had never been wrong about continuing forward through a zone before. He trusted her. Though, really, it did make no sense.

And he knew he could just grab her and bail from the ride if something happened. He could take the fall.

At the very top, the trio stopped. And stared for a good while.

“That is very clearly a statute of Zacharie.” The Player put a hand beneath her chin, thinking. “Does that mean he owns this park? Talk about diversification! I thought he was just the merchant.” Dedan kept quiet, causing the Batter to cut his eyes over to him. The parasite never missed a chance to insert himself into the conversation. But Dedan never said a word. The Batter opened his lower eyes a hair, watching him.

He knew something.

“Hmmm…” The Player looked at the statue for a moment longer, before bracing her shoulder against it and pushing. It didn’t even shift, let alone actually move. A touch of color lit the Player’s cheeks, and she tried again. No dice. The Batter gently pulled his Player back and stepped in front of her. With an easy movement, he hefted the statue up and set it on his shoulder.

“Where do you want it?” His Player blinked at him, speechless with her eyes wide. Smug, he watched Dedan clench his fists out of the corner of his eye. Filth, he was clearly superior. He lightly flexed, enjoying the rising color on his Player’s face.

“Uhhh,” It took a moment for the Player to gather herself. Focus! “In the front seat of the rollercoaster car. We get a picture at the end of the ride, or so that Elsen below said. If we use this statue and get a picture with Zacharie, we might be able to get into the office!” So, that was his Player’s plan. It was clever, a workaround for the Rules.

The Batter stuttered his step for a moment, before going back to his purposeful stride. The Rules? What were those? He must have meant obstacles. How odd. Setting the statue down in the front row, the Batter dismissed the thought. It did not matter.

_He Was So Hungry._

The Player slipped into the front seat next to the statue. “Get in!” Dedan and the Batter gave each other a look. No fighting on the rollercoaster, especially not on that was supposedly abandoned. The Batter was already fighting against his better judgment by letting his Player do this. The two settled into the row behind her, long limbs cramped in the tiny space. Dedan’s leg smack the Batter.

“Get off of me.”

“I would love to, shitfuck!”

The ride was short. Really short. As in it just went back down to the platform they were at earlier. The Player enjoyed it though; a rollercoaster had not been something she expected to find at all. Skipping off the ride, she took the photo from the Elsen. “Woaw, you’re lucky, you rode it with the owner…” Success!

Dedan and the Batter were slower to get off the ride, legs tangled up. They glared at each other. No one would ever know what had just happened. Ever. “Hey guys! Come look at the photo!” The Player held it up for them to see, and they both blanched.

Sitting in the front with the statue was the Player, arms up and smiling happily as she laughed. In the seat behind her immortalized in photo, were Dedan and the Batter, tangled up and clawing at each other with snarls. Dedan’s hand was shoved in the Batter’s face, the other grasping his hat, while the Batter’s hands were wrapped around Dedan’s throat in a stranglehold. In the corner was **Memories of the Park** , in a pleasant font. The Player laughed, putting the photo safely into her inventory.

“You two should have said something. I wouldn’t have made you ride if I knew you were afraid of rollercoasters!” She moved off, leaving the two frozen behind her. She didn’t hear the clinking of their pride shattering into a billion pieces, though she had to fight giggles when Dedan sprinted after her, protests loud.

****

* * *

“Is… Is that a photo of the boss? A… And you’re right next to him?” The Player smirked, nodding as she held the photo out. Elsen were so easy to fool. “On a roller coaster!? But that’s terribly dangerous!” The Elsen fretted, worrying its hands together. “Well… at any rate… I guess you’re a friend of the boss. You may enter.” It stepped aside, muttering to itself in wheezing gasps about how reckless the Player was. The Batter felt a reluctant amusement.

Inside the office were six chests, which the Player wasted no time in opening and pilfering for their contents. After collecting the items—a Taurus orb, a Libra orb, a Scorpio orb, a Virgo orb, a Capricorn orb, and a Gemini orb—she moved to speak with the Elsen standing in the room. It looked at her sadly; it was the one from outside the office. The Batter blinked. Elsen all looked alike anyway.

“You… You shouldn’t ride on roller coasters.” How dare this filthy Elsen think to tell his Player what to do? Delusional creature. “You never know what could happen…” The Player looked at it oddly, before nodding.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” They left the room.

Standing outside the park, the Player tossed her arms up. “Well great. Now what? We still haven’t made any progress and I only have one tie.” The Batter watched her. Where had she gotten a tie? And, for that matter, why did they need a tie again? “If I can’t find another one, we won’t both be able to get into the Residential District.” Ah, that was why. How thoughtless of him to forget. Thank goodness his Player was as perfectly competent as she was.

As they made their way to the residential area, the Player thought. What could she do? By the time they reached the entrance, the Player had run out of ideas. Staring beyond the gate, she blinked. Shoot.

The Batter looked at the distress on his Player’s face. His poor Player was agonizing over the best course of action. He did not have an answer for her. Dedan clicked his tongue.

“Look, sweetheart. Put on tha’ tie and go on in. I’ll come with ya, and I’m sure tha’ fucktard can find a way in without bein’ noticed. We’ll only split up for a bit.” The Player thought on this, before nodding and turning to the Batter.

“That… would be the best choice. Do you think you can get in?” The Batter held back a snarl. He did not like the idea of leaving his vulnerable Player unprotected, but what other options were there? HE would meet up with them fairly quickly. He nodded, stepping back.

The Player slipped the tie on over her head and walked through the residential gate. Dedan waited a moment, looking at the Batter’s tense form. He could see the Batter’s nails digging into his hands from how tightly he was clenching his fists. “Relax, shithead. Nothin’s going ta happen ta her before you get there. So long as you’re quick, tha’ is.” He moved through the gate as well, disappearing from view.

And the Batter stood there, alone.

**_I’m so very HunGRy._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a shorter chapter, but hey. Also, another huge shoutout to Phosphor-sphere on Tumblr for providing the beautiful image in this chapter, as well as several others found [here](https://lynxonsmoothies.tumblr.com/post/639600320504332288/you-ever-just-realize-that-artists-are-out-there). I'm honestly getting spoiled by them!
> 
> Thank you all for reading, and I hope you look forward to next chapter.


	23. zone 2-20: REAFFIRM

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Warning: Rated M for gore and mental instability.**

The residential area was disturbingly empty, the Player thought, rubbing her shoulder as she walked through the gate. Dedan was right behind her, hovering just beyond her sight, casting his own gaze over the deserted streets. “Where is everyone?” She was instantly regretting leaving the Batter behind. She had just had problems with this, and yet here she was without her only real defense.

“I don’t know, sweetheart, but stay close. I don’t like tha’ feel a this.” There wasn’t a single Elsen in sight, not a twitch or stutter to be seen. The streets were silent except for the sound of their footsteps echoing about. Continuing slowly into the area, a familiar voice soon began to drift through the smoke.

“There is still time to repent your omissions, ungrateful wretches… Crave my pardon immediately, or I will send you back to limbo this instant.” The Player cast a look at Dedan, which he returned. It couldn’t be. She peered around the corner down the long street before them, just able to make out where the street expanded into a large plaza. She crouched down, listening.

All the Elsen of the area were milling about in the plaza, watched by a familiar cat that stood upon the steps looking down upon them with a scathing sneer. The Elsen looked around, their beady eyes filled with confusion.

“Did you hear something?” One Elsen wheezed lightly, rubbing its hands together as if it were cold. Which it might have been, considering the violent shivers that wracked its form.

Valerie smacked his paws down on the metal steps, snarling at the pathetic creatures below. “Poor cretins! I am here, right in front of you, ready to send you to hell! So? Are you ready to apologize to your father and protector, you band of wimps?” His tail whipped back and forth angrily, his yellow eyes watching the Elsen.

“There’s nothing but an old cat, up there.” One Elsen stated, dismissing the cat that scratched his claws across the metal ground with light shrieks.

“It could be a dangerous cat… It has sharp claws.” Another postulated, looking distrustfully at the cat.

“Yes, and it can spread disease…” Another expounded, looking warily at the cat.

“Have you heard the story of the guy who got scratched by a cat?” Another questioned, shying away from the cat.

The cat in question screeched, clawing again at the metal ground uselessly. “Aaarrggghh! I hate you! I hate you all!” Valerie’s screaming echoed around the plaza, distorting slightly. Dedan snorted, ignoring how the Player lightly whacked his leg.

“But where’s that voice coming from?” An Elsen questioned.

“Must be someone who’s in a bad mood…” Another offered.

“Yes, he should take the time to relax and enjoy this place… So flat and quiet. Here, we’re safe.” One confirmed.

Valerie took a staggering step forward, entreating me. “But that was me! It was I who made it all like that for you!” The Elsen looked blankly at the cat, no recognition in their eyes. Valerie slumped back, something seeming to die in him. “Are you all so blinded by your pathetic fear of living?... That you can no longer see truth?” His mutter was defeated, filled with hopeless loss.

“This is all rather strange, isn’t it?” The last straw for the cat.

“That is it! I am going to teach you to respect me…” The feline stalked off into the building behind it, not pausing in his steps, not turning back once as the screaming of the Elsen started up, Spectres descending on them. Fools. Fools. Fools, all of them. He would show them, he would remind them. He would make them remember him.

He swore it.

The Player stood up, sprinting toward the plaza. “Wait, shit, sweetheart! _NO!”_ She didn’t falter as Dedan called after her, lunging to try and grab her. She may not have the Batter with her, but she had to do something. She couldn’t just let them die. A hiss like the release of gas from a deflating balloon and a Spectre appeared before her, blocking her path to the plaza. She faltered as it gave a laugh, Dedan catching up just in time to drag her behind him, placing himself between her and the phantasm.

What could she do?

* * *

The Batter dropped the gasping Elsen head into the plastic sea, licking his snout of the blood that had dotted it. He was So Hungry, no matter how much he ate. He had cleared the amusement park of his snacks, searching for another tie to take, to wear so he could meet up with his _Player he wanted her so badly._ Every tie he found melted away in his claws, leaving him with the Elsen he had snatched it from to consume to fill the ever-growing hole in his stomach. Snarling, he smacked his tail into an Elsen that was trying to drag itself away from him, its lower half missing. It made a wet crunch and stopped moving, and the Batter chuckled. He crawled over the prone body, grasping its head and yanking it off with ease, tossing the useless flesh into the sea. He turned his attention to the body, eating with fervor. **How _many had he_ eaten? _Why wasn’t_ _it enough?_**

_Why was he so hungry?_

It burned in him, leaving him to run his tongue along his double rowed teeth to catch the bits of muscle caught between them. **_~~Had he always had two rows of teeth?~~_** There was nothing left to eat in this area, and he still had not procured a tie to meet with his lovely Player. Slinking through the streets of zone 2 back to the residential area, the Batter let his claws rip into the metal ground with pleasure. **_~~Had his claws always been so sharp?~~_** Standing outside, he looked at the gate and walls that separated him from his Player. Inside, she was defenseless. He had to get inside. She needed him. She needed him. His eyes glowed the red that he so craved on his tongue.

He needed her.

He moved quickly. He darted forward, snagging the Elsen closest to him and smashing it into the wall, pulping its skull with ease. He dropped the body and was on the next Elsen before it could scream, claws tearing through its torso like butter. His tail whipped out, smacking the Elsen that had turned to run into the residential area, crushing its ribcage like twigs. **_~~Had his tail always been so long?~~_** Lifting the half an Elsen impaled on his claws, the Batter near unhinged his jaws to shove it in, wet ripping and tearing noises gushing out as he frantically forced the body into his stomach. He did the same to the other corpses, snarling and thrashing at the emptiness that still **_ached_** inside him. It wasn’t enough **_it was never enough_**

He needed her. She would make it stop. _she would make it stop_

He clawed at the gate that separated him from her, his claws tearing gashes that disappeared as fast as he made them. Smashing his tail against the gate, he turned and stabbed his claws into the wall, scuttling up like a giant lizard. The wall hissed as he tore holes in it, like smoke escaping a balloon. His teeth stretched even further as he reached the top. He needed to be with her. His Player needed him there with her. He had to reach her, he had to guard her, or he would be worthless to her. _Useless worthless trashfilth._

Creeping along the edge of the roof, the Batter peered down into the streets of the residential area. His grip on the ledge of the roof warped the stone and metal, and he pulled a chunk off to crumble in his palm. Down below on the pink streets, spectres roamed freely. Off in the distance he could see a plaza filled with spectres chasing Elsen.

**_ But where was his P L A Y E R ? _ **

He couldn’t see her. Why couldn’t he see her? Where was she? _Where was she? **Wherewherewherewherewhere?**_ He had to find her. The parasite was intangible, it couldn’t protect her like the Batter could. He had to reach her, he had to find her. He had to—

_SNAP_

Something in the Batter’s chest broke, something that anchored him slipping away. Something very important was no longer there. _Something was missing. **No. NonononononononononononononononoNONONONONONONONONONONO N O ! **_And the Batter lost his mind.

He roared, throwing himself down the building with reckless abandon. “ **Wheeeerrrrrrrrrreeeeeeeeeee aaaaaarrrrrrrreeeeeeeeeee yyyyyyyyyyyoooooooooooouuuuuuuuuu?** ” The words slurred through his teeth, warped by rage and fangs. She needed him. He needed to get to her. _It’s a bit late for needing you, isn’t it. You fucked up, you worthless piece of shit. You failed._ The Batter pushed off the wall, colliding with the nearest spectre. It screeched as his claws sunk into its plasmatic body and he tore. It was reduced to shreds in moments, and he moved on.

There was no satisfaction in this slaughter, no struggle or challenge. _Nothing to take your mind off the failure. You had one job._ It was merely fodder falling before him like wheat before a scythe, like filth should fall to his claws. He lost count of how many fell, splattering under his claws. It didn’t matter. She was still not there. His vision was blurred with a red haze, and soon the Batter could no longer see through the film clouding his sight.

**_She was not here._ **

Soon there were no more spectres for him to tear into. Standing at the edge of the plaza, the Batter’s tail whipped back and forth, cracking the stone of the walls it impacted. His empty eyes fell on a more satisfying prey, cowering away from him. A lone Elsen still in the plaza, not hidden away in its homes during the spectre attack.

The Batter dropped to all fours above the shivering Elsen, pinning it in place on the ground. “ **I have purified this place, but this zone has not yet been freed of its true pessssssstttt.** ” Bringing his snout to the Elsen’s face, he snarled lowly. “ **Where can I find Japhet?** ” The Cat would know. The Cat would know where she is. It took her. The Cat who claimed to be a Bird. _It took her._

The Elsen yelped, shivering as it squeezed its eyes shut in fear. “J-Japhet? Who’s Japhet?” The Batter grabbed the Elsen by the front of its shirt and slammed it down into the ground.

“ **The CAT who directs the spectres.** ” The Elsen whimpered, grasping at the claws piercing its shirt.

“T-the cat? I…I don’t know!” A terrible grin grew on the Batter’s muzzle. He brought his mouth to the Elsen’s ear, his words slithering from behind his teeth in a low growl.

“ **Then what use are you to me?** ” He snapped his jaws onto the Elsen’s skull, crunching it in one swift move. As he snapped the bones inside his jaws, the Batter could feel the ache in his stomach finally abate in part. It made the world clearer, the red fading from his vision. Lifting his blood covered head, he scented the air.

He could smell her.

She had been here but was no longer in the area. He had to find her. It was not safe. _She’s not there anymore._ Slurping down the last scraps of the unfortunate Elsen, the Batter stood up and pulled his lie back over his skin. She was not here, so she must be back outside the residential area. The Batter gave a smile, the stretch unhinged.

She had gone back for him after seeing the spectres, but he hadn’t been there. His smart, trusting Player was probably sitting outside the residential area, looking for him. She was smart, she was perfect, she was pure. She knew he would keep her safe, that she could trust him to take care of the _filth_ that threatened her. She was just outside. She had to be just outside. He just couldn’t feel her because of his sin, of his filth and scum clouding his senses.

That was all.

Stepping out of the residential area, the Batter stood still. _Wherewherewhere is she? Whereisshe?_ The Batter composed himself slightly, calming the rippling of his skin. She had gone to look for him, most likely she was wandering the zone looking for him. He just had to find her. Soft pawsteps caught the Batter’s attention and he wanted to scream. He did not need this irritant at the moment. _hehadtofindherrightnow_

The Judge preened. “I am embarrassed, I admit, but it appears that I need your purifying intentions, puppet… Though,” the Judge’s voice took an edge. “Where is your beloved puppeteer?” The Batter swung his head to stare at the cat. The Judge fought the urge to let his fur bristle under the dead look.

“I can’t find her. Have you seen her?” The Judge tilted his head, watching the Batter with eerily piercing eyes.

“I am afraid I have not, puppet.” Judge narrowed his eyes, contemplating the Batter. “Though perhaps I have a theory as to where she is. Valerie, my beloved brother, appears to have fallen off the rails of consciousness and into the depths of uncontrollable madness. He calls himself Japhet, and, in addition to being the royal agent he has never been, proclaims himself chief of the spectres. Two roles he has usurped, no doubt. Nobody in this world, I can assure you, has any control over the ectoplasms…" Judge flicked his tail. "Except perhaps the Queen, but I have yet to find any concrete evidence or testimony to prove this hypothesis. Anyway, Valerie settled on the roof of the library. And, although I suppose this could have been just a coincidence, it seems that ghosts are swarming the corridors of the same building." Judge looked up at the library. "It seems that in his insanity, my brother may have taken up corporeal abduction as well."

The Batter clutched his bat. Sending his senses out from his body, he swept through the zone, pushing and pushing till he was at his limits. Until a faint tingle, a burning on his skin; a broken thread in his chest snapped back into place, and the world cleared even further. Something else ran up the Batter’s skin: a sin, faint. One was in the library, one was in the mall.

“She is not with him. She’s over there.” The Batter raised his bat, pointing to the mall.

The Judge was watching the Batter, his fur prickled at the aura rolling off the creature. He had known, but this… he had to accompany. Not just for his brother, but for the dear Player. If this was the soul of the creature hiding beneath those lies, she was not safe to travel with it at the moment. “I will follow you.” The Batter gave no indication he had heard, moving toward the mall with shocking speed, the Judge trailing along after him.

_She’s over there, see? She’s fine she’s fine shefi **ne** finefi **nefinefi** ne. It’s fine We’re fine._

_ She’s okay. _

* * *

The Player gasped, clutching her chest as she sat up. What? Blinking rapidly, she looked around her. Where was she? It was freezing in here, and very blue. She looked down at herself, the pale blue sheets of the bed she was in slipping down to her hips. A small side table was situated to one side, a tiny lamp adorning it. Across the room, the form of Dedan was slumped against the wall, asleep.

“Ah! You are awake, my dear.” The familiar bouncy tones of a certain merchant came through the doorway to her right, followed shortly by the man himself. He was carrying a small bowl of soup, steam wafting off to release a decadent smell. The Player blinked. She didn’t think there was food like that here. Dedan stirred slightly at the merchant’s voice.

Placing the bowl down on the table beside the bed the Player had awoken in, Zacharie took a seat on the edge by her legs. “Now, are you feeling better, my dear?” The Player furrowed her brow and ran a hand through her hair.

“I feel fine, Zacharie, if a tad groggy. What happened?” His eyes flashed with something dark, before lightening just as fast. He shrugged, handing her a spoon and motioning toward the bowl.

“I am afraid I don’t entirely know, my dearest customer. I found you passed out near the yellow plastic box in the front of the shopping mall.” Tossing a hand to his forehead, he dramatically sighed. “Being the compassionate soul I am, I simply could not leave you there, especially _alone._ ” Was it her, or did Zacharie put an odd stress on that word? As she took a sip of the soup—it tasted as good as it smelled—Zacharie rose up and made his way back to the door.

“Take as long as you need dear. When you are feeling better, come out front, m’kay?” She nodded, and Zacharie left the room. Dedan stirred and opened his eyes groggily.

“Tha’ fuck?” Standing up slowly, he rubbed his head. “Tha’ fuck happened?” Glancing around, he moved over to where the Player was sitting, looming over the bed. “Sweetheart, tha’ hell are we?”

“Zacharie said we are in the shopping mall. Apparently, he found me passed out in the main lobby.” Dedan groaned, pulling out a cigar and lighting it.

“What do ya remember, sweetheart? Cause I’m drawing jackshit on why we would be there.” He kept his eyes from her as he took a puff of his cigar.

“Well, we had just gotten past all the spectres in the residential area, and into the building behind the plaza. I remember that.” She took another sip of the soup. “Then we… we…” She put the bowl soup, looking at Dedan. “I don’t know. It’s empty from there.”

Dedan hummed, letting smoke curl from his teeth. “I don’t know either, sweetheart.” He really didn’t know. It was a blurry mess of memories… memories that most certainly could not have occurred. He looked at his cigar. That damn merchant must have spiked them with something. Peyote, maybe. Fuck that shit.

A loud commotion from outside the room, and then the Batter burst inside. Shoving Dedan out of the way, he grasped the Player, lifting her out of the bed to examine. Once he was assured of her health, he loosened his grip enough to let blood flow back into her arms, setting her down gently.

The Player looked at him, concerned as he slumped. “Batter?” This wasn’t like him. Dedan was quiet, not even complaining at the Batter’s rough treatment of his person. The Batter just knelt by the side of the bed, feeling the tendrils rebinding them.

“…Don’t wander off alone.” She nodded her head slowly, watching the Batter relax even further. What was with him?

* * *

It was a little bit of time before the Player felt like they should continue on with their mission. Outside the room, she was surprised to see the Judge and Zacharie playing Canasta on the counter. Upon her entrance, the merchant smiled—though how anyone knew seeing as he wore a mask was a mystery—and waved while the Judge leaped down.

“I am afraid that is my cue, my mercurial merchant. I must insist upon a rematch at some point in the future.” The Judge gave a little bow to Zacharie, his ever-present grin stretched with content.

“Why, of course!” And with that, the four left, Zacharie watching after them. His smile faded behind his mask as they walked away. He had almost been too late. He hadn’t been prepared.

He had been complacent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plaza scene is the bane of my existence for this chapter. All these Elsen are speaking and DOING NOTHING. Lovely. 
> 
> [Dedan](https://lynxonsmoothies.tumblr.com/post/640317799011663872/as-a-non-visual-arty-type-getting-to-see-the) by Phosphor-sphere


	24. zone 2-21: REPULSE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Warning: Rated M for Dedan's language and some mildly disturbing themes. If it weren't for Dedan, this would probably be a T chapter. Freaking Dedan and his rating inflation.**

The Elsen was still watching the wall, the Player realized. The Batter and Dedan were busy snarling at each other again as they stepped back into the Library, the Judge padding behind the Player closely. He kept looking at the Batter oddly, which the Player respected. He couldn’t see Dedan, so the Batter must have appeared to be fighting air. Moving to the Elsen staring at the wall, the Player watched the wall as well, the Judge twining between her legs affectionately.

“It’s a nice wall, isn’t it?” The Elsen nodded at her overture, blinking slowly as it watched the wall. “Have you just been here the whole time?” The Elsen shook lightly, as if rustled by a breeze in the still library. The Judge gave it a contemptuous look.

“Yes…no…I… I’m just looking at that wall.” It blinked again, wheezing as it spoke in stuttering halts. The Player gave a thoughtful hum, tilting her head as she watched the wall as well. It was indistinguishable from the others around it. What made this one so special to the Elsen?

“Do you enjoy watching the wall?” The Elsen didn’t move, holding as still as it could. The Judge sighed, leaving to watch the Batter snarl at nothing. The Player stayed, waiting.

“Leave me be…I…It’s only a wall.” What an odd statement, the Player thought. She pushed forward the conversation, hoping to get a bit more information. She looked at the Elsen.

“What do you mean?” A faint hiss echoed across her ears, like a balloon slowly deflating. Whipping her head back to the wall, the Player shivered. What…what was that?

“I think…the wall said something to me… Can you hear it?” The Player felt another shiver go down her spine. What?

“The wall…spoke?” That wasn’t possible. Walls didn’t talk… did they? Suddenly, the Player didn’t feel as sure of that fact as she would have liked. Though, in her defense, nothing up to this point has indicated that the structures were sentient. She would prefer it stayed that way.

“I think it has ears. But no one’s talking in here, so it can’t hear anyone.” The Elsen seemed to droop further and further as it spoke, like a sunflower absent the sun. The Player swallowed but considered what it had said. It sounded…

“Sad. That sounds sad.” And it did. What a lonely existence, to speak and have no one hear, to hear but have no one speak. That is, if the wall could do those things. She was still a bit skeptical about that.

“That is pretty sad.” The Elsen agreed, nodding slightly. “It protects the books, but it can’t read them.” The Elsen went quiet, tilting its head back ever so slightly. “Maybe we’re all protecting something, but we just don’t know what…” The Elsen’s voice turned flat, _different_. “Or maybe we are ruining it.”

A shiver shot up the Player’s spine at the abrupt change. “What?” That was not an Elsen’s voice. She knew that. She knew that very well. Throwing herself back from the Elsen, she tensed, ready to react should it strikeout. But it didn’t move. It just looked at the wall with the same vaguely sad expression all Elsen had.

“Just let me admire this wall… It must be suffering… all the time…” Moving away from the Elsen slowly, she didn’t take her eyes off the creature. Something was seriously off about that Elsen, which was saying something. They weren’t exactly normal on a good day.

The Batter, even in his spat with Dedan, had kept an eye on his Player’s interaction with the Elsen. He had almost leapt over and snatched her back when she had recoiled from the Elsen, but had refrained. He was not worthy to touch her, not now. With her moving back to his side now, he could feel the constant tension that coiled in him unwind slightly. They could move on now **~~she was back in his reach.~~** He was not letting her out of his sight again.

A wheeze stopped the group from passing the front desk. “You…you shouldn’t have come back…” Turning to look at it, the Player yelped, leaping back as the Elsen behind the desk erupted into ash and soot, corrupting before their eyes. It lunged over the desk, swiping at the Player who stumbled back just out of the reach of its fingers. The Batter smashed his bat down, cracking the spine of the Burnt creature with ease. It slumped over the desk, melting away. The Judge hopped up next to it to better inspect the process.

“Fascinating. A corporeal corruption due to the non-intrinsic lack of internal machinations of a spectral manner.” Flicking his tail, he turned to face the Player, his grin still ever present. “Indeed, a saddening process, the burning of a being.” Hopping down from the desk, he padded his way up the stairs, imperiously calling back. “Well then, no time to dally.” Dedan tsked, but followed after. The Batter moved as well—to follow after that infernal feline and a parasite, how low he had fallen—when he noticed that his Player did not do the same.

She was standing there, looking at the former Elsen’s remains, the tar soaking into the books left on the desk. Her hands were clenched at her sides, her face not quite visible from where the Batter stood. He moved to stand next to her, angling to see her face. She didn’t react, her face lined with an emotion the Batter couldn’t identify. How could he, if he had never felt it?

He didn’t like seeing it on her.

He cleared his throat, and his Player blinked. She looked up at him, a strained smile appearing on her face. “Sorry about that. Was just… thinking.” Turning from the mess of tar, she hurried to reach the stairs. “We should go.”

The Batter opened his lower eyes, the red glow lighting up the shadow cast by his hat. Something was wrong. Something was _upsetting_ his Player. The Batter’s lies rippled as his perfect Player ascended the stairs. Something burned in his chest, and he could feel his jaws aching as they tried to stretch and snap.

**_What was it? What was making her unhappy? He would_ **

**_destroy_ **

**_it_ **

No. He closed his lower eyes, taking a breath to force his lies to firm around him. Not now. He would deal with the issue, but now was not the time. He was to ascend the tower, toward the itch that crawled on his skin, so reminiscent of the one that the parasite had once projected.

_Pride._

The further up the tower they climbed, the more the Batter could feel it coat his skin of lies like oil. It had to be that cat. He knew it was.

They soon passed the storeroom they had encountered the cat claiming to be Japhet in, and found themselves in the room beyond. It was small, with a couple of bookshelves and a door leading outside. On the far right, a book lay open in front of a bookcase. The Player moved to pick it up, reading the page it was opened to.

“ _Drawing from his waning forces, he created the Library, more beautiful than ever before. Its height pierced the smoky clouds and there he stood._ ” The Player flipped around a bit, not surprised to see the book was empty beyond those two pages. She slipped it back onto the bookshelf.

“Japhet had a flair fer dramatics, but tha’ chicken also loved practicality.” Dedan motioned toward the bookshelf in explanation. “When he made this tower, it was pretty weird, but he swore it was functional.” He puffed his cigar, eyes meeting the Player’s as he grinned. “Personally, I think tha’ damn bird jus’ wanted a perch.”

The Batter resisted the urge to roll his eyes. What boundless wisdom.

Outside the door, the Player had to stop and blink. It was an external balcony level. Leaning out over the plastic slicked ledge to look down, the Player gasped. “Wow! I knew that this building could rival a skyscraper, but it’s so big!” The Batter did not even hesitate, grasping her shoulders and gently pulling her away from the edge. What if she fell? His perfect Player, destroyed by something as mundane as gravity; it burned to think of. Or perhaps that was her skin on his own. It was hard to tell sometimes.

Around the balcony to the next door, they found another room a table and chairs set up. The Batter hustled his Player into a seat, despite her protests. As he had seen in zone 1, she would hide her physical strain for as long as she could. What if she was hiding her exhaustion from climbing all those stairs? He stared down as she sat in the chair, until she looked away, a tint of red to her face. He knew it; she was tired, the flush proved her exertion.

“Hmm, what is this? A literary account of information has inclined from its intended interim.” The Judge was sitting over a book a slight ways from the table. Dedan sent the cat a look, clearly done with how he spoke. “Ah! It contains nuances of nominal importance, but I shall deign to peruse the paper and ink.” Clearing his throat, the Judge’s grin grew as he affected an air of importance, reading aloud. “ _Much like a guardian angel, he had done everything for them. He had brought them peace, security and entertainment. Such was his generosity._ ” The Judge pawed at the pages, confirming no other contents remained. “It appears to be propaganda in perpetuation of the political or prescribed power of the zone Guardian Valerie claims to be.”

Dedan finally snapped. “Wha’ tha’ fuck? Jus’ speak normal, ya shitty furball!” The Judge closed the book, unaware of the former Guardian’s outrage.

Peering around the floor, the Judge made a decision. Looking at the Player, who was still studiously ignoring the Batter, who loomed over her, he let out a purr. “My dear, I shall peruse the premises. Given the contents of the two displaced volumes, I suspect I shall encounter more manuscripts of a similar nature.” The Player nodded. It made sense.

It was only a few minutes before the Judge returned, which the Player spent trying not to shift under the intense gaze of the Batter. She was fine, really. “After investigation, I located three peculiarly placed pieces of literature. I shall recite them. _For a while, that was all good and well for all, they enjoyed the new land with the innocence of a child. They were running down the streets, enjoying—_ ” The Judge paused, flexing his paws. “That is the end of the first. The second, _But the dynamics of the world soon drove the people mad. They forgot about their joys and eventually succumbed to their neurosis of fear and worries. They weren’t—_ ” The Batter noticed Dedan shifting, an odd expression on his face. “Finally, the third, _Meanwhile, the Flaming Winged Sovereign weeped on his throne, their joys saddened to have been forgotten by Man. He had no more time for their worries._ ”

“What a sad story,” said the Player after a few moments. She tilted her head back, thinking. “To give up your happiness because of fear, and for the… Japhet to be forgotten after all he did. It just seems so sad to me.” The Batter moved his eyes from her bent neck—so temptingly bare, it was, so scandalously bared in her innocence—to her face. There was an expression of sadness in her eyes, but it was gone in a blink. “What were the page numbers?” The Judge tilted his head, grin widening as he recited them. The Player nodded. “Thank you, dear Judge. We had best keep moving on.” The Batter continued to hover over her as they moved up to the next floor.

Another book awaited them. The Judge crouched over it, flicking his tail. “ _And so the Flaming Bird—_ ” The Judge stopped, blinking. His smile faltered. “— _turned into a cat and the cat into a Ruler._ ” The Judge’s voice was quiet as he continued, seeming confused. “ _Driven insane by his anger and sadness, he summoned forth a storm of evil spirits upon his subjects. His madness had—_ " The script ended there. The Judge didn’t move.

“Judge?” The Player came up next to him, crouching on her haunches to look him in the eyes as she gently stroked the fur between his ears.

“I can see how Valerie, in his delusions, latched on to this particular fiction,” was all he said before falling silent once more. Giving his ears a reassuring rub, the Player moved on. The Batter shifted his eyes up several floors. Given what he could feel, the Batter was not sure that it was a delusion, even if the idea of a cat controlling the spectres was laughable. If the Batter laughed.

The next floor contained its continuation. “ _While the spectres were destroying the world he had created, he sought **[s]** helter at the summit of his most wonderful creation, the Great Library._” No one spoke, and they moved on. Dedan hung back for a lingering moment with the book. It was fiction. Japhet adored what he created, he would never seek to destroy it.

After another outdoor excursion, they reached what the Player knew as the last room before the roof. It had the same kind of puzzle that the Judge had made them solve in zone 0. It was nostalgic in a sense, solving a puzzle to seek a cat. However, the cats in question were very different in this case.

One last book lay in the corner. As the Player began inputting the code—which she had gleaned from the odd numbering on the bottom of the pages of the books that had been left out, much to both the Batter and Dedan’s confusion—the Judge read the last words. “ _There was nothing else to be done but wait for the man who would rise forth to destroy him. For deep inside his soul, there was no doubt what he did was Evil. The End._ The page numbers are eight and zero.” The Player nodded and pushed the corresponding squares.

How clever and wise was his Player, the Batter thought. She knew from the very beginning that the books were a clue, and had expedited their progress due to her foresight. A terrible grin grew on his face as they moved through the adjoined hall to the outside level. She was bringing him closer to cleansing this zone, his perfect Player. His precious, generous, kind Player, taking the needs of the filth to be clean into her consideration, and deigning to act upon their need. They were unworthy of her regard in this manner, and even after being cleansed, they would still be unworthy of her.

Outside, the Player crouched by a yellow cube, messing with it briefly before pulling out a bottle of water, swigging it. Dedan recoiled, smacking it from her hand just as she resecured the cap. “Tha’ hell are ya doin’?! Do ya have a death wish? Tha’ shit’s toxic!” The Judge tilted his head curiously at the sight of the Player drinking what he knew to be a substance unpotable by any creature within the zones. Beads of plastic from the drizzling rain beaded on the bottle.

“I don’t drink plastic, it’s water or nothing for my people.” Dedan stared at her, clenching and unclenching his fists as he watched her pick the bottle up. It went against his instincts for his only tie to this realm—and an admittedly attractive individual he was interested in getting to know in a _much_ closer manner—drink what he had felt sear his skin, drink what he had utilized on several occasions for a bit of…fun. But as he waited, the Player never reacted to the H2O—and wasn’t that a horrifying thought, a substance containing not only hydrogen which was worthless, but oxygen as well, which was acrid to breathe—which she poured into her system. Dedan couldn’t believe it, his jaw slack. The Batter snickered.

Stupid parasite was uncomprehending of the distance between the immaculate Player and his own parasitic filth.

“I see,” the Judge drawled, eyes fixed with intensity. “Your composition is far more basic than the natives of the zones. You are able to ingest items we cannot. I assume that you cannot ingest our own nutritional nourishment?”

The Player nodded. “That’s right. If I were to take an injury or something, I wouldn’t be able to eat the flesh that you do to heal.” The Judge hmm-ed, but asked no more questions. Moving to explore the floor, the Player let out a happy cry of “Zacharie!”. The merchant in question was leaning against the ledge that lipped up around the level, looking out at the view.

“Nice view from up here, don’t you think?” Zacharie took a deep breath behind his mask, and cut his eyes over to the odd group. “It almost makes me forget that this is only a video game.” The Batter didn’t understand, but his Player chuckled. Dedan remained silent, grinding his teeth against his cigar. The Player and Zacharie dove into haggling over prices, items exchanging hands with credits.

Soon the transactions were complete, and the Player waved goodbye to the merchant, who happily waved back, though his eyes never left his screen of inventory. As they moved toward the ladder that would lead them to the roof, Dedan noticed something interesting. Hanging draped over the Player’s shoulders was the tie from before.

“Now sweetheart, why do ya still have tha’ tie?” She looked down at it, a glint of something flickering through her eyes.

“I decided that I liked it.” She fidgeted with it, clearly trying to tie the knot. It ended up looking more like a tangle than a tie. She had never been good at knots.

“You look fuckin’ adorable.” Dedan chortled at the disgruntled look on the Player’s face, as she attempted to adjust her tie. “’ere,” he chuckled, fixing it for her. The Batter held back a growl, watching as the parasite brushed his claws along his pure Player’s delicate throat, her clothed shoulders.

“And how do you know how to tie a tie?” The parasite didn’t even wear shirts—a habit he would have to get the fool to change, the Batter decided upon seeing how flustered _his_ Player was becoming—so how would he know how to tie a tie?

“Just because I don’t like shirts doesn’t mean I don’t know how ta wear them an’ tha like stuff, asshole.” Dedan swiped at the Batter’s head, irritated. The Batter sneered at him, while the Player touched the tie and smiled.

Bending down to pick up the Judge—who was growing more and more convinced that there was a fourth member to this party that he was unable to view—and placed him on her head. “Mind staying there while I climb up the ladder?” A purr was his response and they began scaling upwards.

At the top, the Player paused to let the Judge down, her eyes locked with the still silhouette of a cat sitting on the ledge in front of the sun, unaffected by the light plastic rain sprinkling down. Behind her the Batter drew his bat, and Dedan snuffed his cigar. It was time to prove that this cat was not Japhet. Dedan was certain.

“Valerie!” The Judge’s ecstatic cry echoed over the top of the roof. The cat turned, no expression on its face.

“…Valerie?” The cat turned to look at the Judge fully. “That… is the name of the cat.” The cat let out a small mewl, and the fur on the Judge’s back bristled. That was a cry of pain. “You are mistaking me for someone else. I am Japhet the fire bird, Guardian of zone 2!”

He had lost his mind. “Stop with these paranoid delusions, dear brother! Come with me to zone 0. I have built a cellar where we can forget our sorrows…” The cat released a piercing cry, unlike a cat in every way.

It leaped down to stand across the roof from the Judge. “I am not your brother! I do not even belong to any race of predators!” An agonized mewl ripped itself out of the cat’s mouth, as its eyes rolled up to show whites. “Take a look at my real face, you poor, smelly cat!” A sickening slicking sound started up, the cat’s neck bulging in unnatural ways, as if something was crawling its way up its throat. Its mouth was forced open, and a pair of beady black eyes peered from a feather face coated in fluid, poking out from behind the few teeth in the cat’s jaw.

The Judge took a step back. “Va…Valerie?” No. This was not how it was supposed to be. He was here to take his brother home. He had finally found a home, a safe place for them. The Judge felt his lungs catch on the smoke he breathed. Why was this happening?

“You do not understand, do you? I am not Valerie, I am Japhet!” The bird squirmed, its head moving out of Valerie’s mouth slightly. “I have taken control of your miserable little brother. Unable to even chew through a little bird, until the end.”

The Judge shook as Japhet laughed at him, his grin now a baring of teeth in his fury. How dare it. Unable to even respond, the Judge glared. The Batter stepped forward, moving in front of the Judge; he could feel the sin clearly now, its oil fingers dragging across his skin like pond scum without the mask of the cat to muffle it. His Player darted forward, scooping the Judge up and hugging him to her chest, though the cat’s eyes never moved from the monster that had stolen his brother. Dedan stood still as stone behind her, eyes fixed on the beady eyes of his fellow Guardian.

“Whatever,” the Batter dismissed, rotating his bat restlessly. He raised it to point at the bird-cat. “Japhet, I am here to destroy you, you who claim to control the spectres.”

Japhet released a bitter, twittering laugh. “I was waiting, Batter.” The bird shifted in Valerie’s mouth, eyes darting to the Player clutching the Judge. A flash of something flared in his eyes before he focused on the Batter. “I will not go down without a fight.”

It was at that moment that it sunk in for the Judge. The bird had not just taken his brother’s form; it had consumed him. An agonizing emptiness ripped through him, dragging out a mournful cry. “… Valerie…” An agonized mewl ripped from Valerie’s form, and as the Judge watched his brother, Valerie’s eye rolled down and met his own. Pain, fear, hope: those were not what one would see in a dead eye.

Valerie was alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm here! I'm alive! 
> 
> Thank you all so much for waiting--IRL decided it had things it wished for me to focus on instead of writing, much to my displeasure. As always, your support means the world to me, your kudos/subscriptions/bookmarks/comments make my day!
> 
> Hope you all enjoyed this chapter! Next chapter is a heck of a brawl.

**Author's Note:**

> Need to contact me, or want to send me something? MEDIA LINKS. I got 'em. (Though Tumblr is the only one that's really active)  
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/LynxOnSmoothies)  
> [DeviantArt](https://www.deviantart.com/lynxonsmoothies)  
> [Tumblr](https://lynxonsmoothies.tumblr.com/)  
> [Ko-Fi](https://ko-fi.com/lynxonsmoothies)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Not everything is not as it seems.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28619934) by [foldingchairmagicalgirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/foldingchairmagicalgirl/pseuds/foldingchairmagicalgirl)




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